My Latin Teacher is a Centaur
by bloody.pinprick
Summary: It wasn't exactly a rebirth, but it was equally unpleasant. Let's just say falling sleep a sixteen-year-old fan and waking up a thirteen-year-old character is no fun and leave it at that. (T because this is Percy Jackson, guys. Give me a break.)
1. Chapter 1

_So, I wasn't planning on starting a new project, but I did. Partially it's because I'm hitting a block with my other two stories, and I wanted to beat the writer's block before it really had a chance to settle in. Also, I've been a PJO fan for a million years, so this was long overdue.  
_ _Enjoy._

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

It was the most horrible day of my entire life.

I didn't even die or anything. But one day I fell asleep in my fluffy, soft mattress with my cat sitting on my head, a few months after my sixteenth birthday, and when I woke up, things were… different.

Let's get something straight: I am _not_ a morning person. Not even close. My mind isn't even halfway to functional until I have at least two cups of highly caffeinated coffee, and even then I tend to fall asleep in the middle of first period. So when I woke up, I didn't really notice anything odd at first. The air in my room was weird, like I'd forgotten to open my window and let in fresh air the night before, but I figured it was probably owing to sinusy crap or something. Y'know, that junk that makes everything taste weird. I'd even been woken up in the same way as usual, the way I liked: no sound. Not a knock at my door, not a word. Instead, the light in my room had been turned on. It burned my eyes when I first opened them, but to me, all voices before 11:30 AM sounded like nails on a chalkboard. The longer I could postpone it, the better.

I rolled over a few times before sitting up, my astigmatism totally ruining whatever images were before me. I blinked, smacked my lips, and then swung my legs over the side of my bed. Then I waited a few _more_ minutes before actually rising, which was a good thing, because my feet were like five feet off the ground.

 _What the heck? My_ ceiling _is barely more than five feet off the ground._

I leapt off, landing easily on my feet. Luckily, my balance had always been good. Still, I was more than a little put off. Had I had a sleepover with a friend, and I was just too groggy to remember it? Like I said, I wasn't a morning person. Still, that didn't seem like me. Something was wrong - way wrong. I rose off of the ground slowly and looked around, quickly picking out a table with a pair of plain brown-framed glasses on it. Mine. I picked them up and put them on, and the image instantly clarified. Far to my left was a door, to the right of which were the light switches. To the right of the switches were four different dressers. Each had a picture frame above them, but instead of a picture, they were filled with printer paper, with colorfully inked names in the ugliest fonts I'd ever seen: _Nancy, Sarah-Grace, Phoebe,_ and _Amara,_

 _Amara. That's me, but I've never been here before. And who are Nancy, Sarah-Grace, and Pheobe?_ I turned around. Directly across from the dressers were two sets of bunk beds. Probably the same girls who used those dressers slept in the beds here.

I blinked a few more times. _Damn,_ was I tired. As weird as this was, it was probably me forgetting something. I needed to get my priorities in order, and the first thing on my list at 7:18:56, 57, 58, and counting, according to the analog clock on the wall, was coffee. Coffee, and then I'd figure all of this out.

I hurried towards the door and opened it, my palm covered with the fabric of my t-shirt, but closed it quickly when this little girl ran past wearing a loose grey sweater and a khaki skirt. I was still wearing pajamas, which also meant that I was not wearing a bra. In fact, it was possible that I was wearing nothing but panties.

Luckily, I seemed to be wearing an overlarge t-shirt and a pair of fluffy black pants with snowflakes on them, which were, I remembered, exactly the same things I'd been wearing the night before. _Mornings,_ I thought, wandering over to the dresser marked as mine and standing in front of it. I used my hand to grab a fistful of my shirt, covering my palm, and then pulled open the top drawer. It was full of grey-blue sweaters, neatly folded, with collared shirts sewn into them. I pulled one out and tossed it haphazardly onto one of the beds behind me, then opened the middle drawer. There were two piles: one with khaki pants and belts, and the other a pile of khaki skirts. I pulled out a pair of the pants and frowned. Since when did I ever own any skirts? Like, ever? Even if somebody had kidnapped me, they should have at least had the decency to research my style.

The last drawer revealed nude-colored bras and socks (I grabbed some of those without hesitation) and panties. Had I changed my panties the night before? I paused in thought and grabbed a pair anyways. I was better off safe than sorry.

Since the room was empty, and everyone who apparently lived in this room was a girl, based on their names, I decided to just go ahead and change. I turned to the bed with all of the clothing on it (clothing that looked a lot like school uniforms I'd seen in the past) and frowned. It looked weird somehow. Not the style; I didn't mind that. It was neat, and I was the kind of person who either dressed neatly, like in a button-down and pants, or with a simple tee and jeans with the occasional flannel or plaid shirt overtop of it. I didn't dress the 'trendy' way. I didn't care, it didn't matter, and it was expensive. No, the problem here was the size. All of the clothes looked way too small. "Morning," I muttered, shaking my head and discarding the overlarge _Pirates of the Caribbean_ t-shirt and grabbing the bra. I looked down and had to hold back a scream.

"What happened to my boobs?" I whispered hysterically once I had semi-calmed down. Where my uncomfortably large D-cups had once been were now - I glanced at the tag on the bra - the same B cups I'd had in fourth grade.

This was clearly a dream. A bizarre, terrible dream.

Me being the aspiring writer I was, I'd written 'dream scenes' before, and I'd had to research the differences between dream and reality before. So the first thing I did was to look down at my hand and _really_ focus on it. It would have looked retarded if anybody had walked in (outrageous, actually - a half-naked me staring at my hand like I was trying to burn a couple of holes in it) but that didn't matter because it was a dream. Definitely a dream.

But when I counted my digits, there were five. Not three, not four, not six. Five. So I needed a mirror. Regardless of my partial indecency, I was pretty much willing to streak around the hallway if it meant finding a mirror, but I struck it lucky (if you could call any of this more than _bad_ luck) and there was one on the back of my door.

This revealed any number of alarming things. The first thing I noticed was that I'd shrunk. I'd always been a little on the short side, but it wasn't bad. The mirror on the door, though, showed that I was… _way_ short, though. Too short. Like… I appeared to be about four-foot-two.

A tear involuntarily rolled down my cheek.

Second, I noticed that I was thin. In reality - because I still wanted this to be a dream - I wasn't fat, but I was a little above average, and I'd been seriously considering a diet plan to help me get back on track. Here, I had the same healthy, thin layer of fat over muscle that I'd had when I was still enrolled in mixed martial arts. But that had been years ago. I'd quit MMA before I even hit sixth grade! Then I'd gotten addicted to chocolate ice cream and Netflix, and it was a downward spiral from there. A smaller detail that went along with that one was that my skin was pale as heck. I'd always been pale, but this looked sickly. Like I was dead or something.

I adjusted my gaze from my body to my face, when I noted some other things that bothered me. It was becoming clear to me that, in this terrible, terrible dream, I was in a much younger body than my own, but there were a few things different about this body. For instance, assuming I was about twelve or thirteen, my hair should have been long, fluffy, and mud-colored. It was long and fluffy, alright, but it was a little darker, like the deep, rich brown of a coffee bean. It made my skin look even more grossly pale, but when I looked past that, I noticed that my freckles were absent. Of course. If my slight tan was gone, then why would my freckles still be there? But my eyes were still hazel and narrow, my nose a button, and my lower lip fuller than my upper one. I still looked mostly the same. Just… younger. And in a place I didn't recognize.

And my reflection in the mirror was crystal clear, not a single blur or distortion about it.

I looked down at my body. Other than the fact that I looked just like my twelve-year-old self, everything was perfect. My limbs were in fine shape. Again, none of the signs of distortion often shown in dreams.

"One, two, three, testing," I said. "Testing." My voice sounded fine, and it was coming from my mouth.

I looked at one of the dressers and tried to move it with my mind. It didn't work. I also couldn't make things appear with my mind, or make things disappear.

I looked at the analog clock. Less than ten minutes had passed, and there were no signs - that I could think of - that suggested this was a dream. For the past few minutes I'd been perfectly calm, but now I pulled on my pirate shirt and crawled into the unfamiliar bunk bed. The mattress was thinner and less comfortable than my own, but it was also in way better shape. Even it didn't really provide comfort, so I burrowed beneath my covers and into the dark.

Ten minutes later, two teachers had to rush into the room to stop me screaming.

* * *

 **Ø**

* * *

"Okay, honey," said the teacher who'd stayed just outside of what was apparently my dorm room after telling me to get dressed and ready to go. It had taken her and the other teacher hours to calm me down. It had taken them almost one just to get me to poke my head out of the blanket. They'd both been entirely startled when I made them show me their teacher IDs, but now I didn't even remember this teacher's name. I didn't remember the other's either, but she'd run off, anyways. I'd always been good at forgetting them. "Just sit here. The nurse is going to see you soon, okay? And then she'll drop you off by the guidance office, okay?"

I frowned, but nodded, and she left. I hadn't really wanted to be left alone in the little office, since the secretary, ever focused on her typing, didn't count as company. Still, I could hardly make myself any more vulnerable looking. It was clear enough that the teacher ladies had thought I was having some kind of a nervous breakdown. Whatever this was, I didn't want to make it worse for myself.

I'd been allowed to stare at the IDs for a long time before the second teacher snatched them away and started whining about protocol, but I had only managed to pick out the words 'academy' and 'teacher assistant' on one of their cards. It was clear enough now that I was at a boarding school, most likely one that hosted grades 6-12. Also, I had discovered that I was a sixth grader. I was still in a state of shock, but I'd recovered enough to at least hide my fear and confusion a little.

After a few short minutes of waiting, a blond, chubby woman in flowered scrubs poked her head out of a room in the corner. "Are you Amara Easterling?" she asked, smiling at me. I nodded and stood, walking her way. "Alright. Let's get you checked out, okay hon?" She let me into the nurse's office and closed the door behind me. The she sat at her desk and typed until my student profile popped up on the screen. "Okay, Amara. Tell me how you're feeling."

I didn't want to hesitate, so I gave it some thought, fast. I definitely didn't want to be in classes today. I couldn't handle it. Still, if I acted too sick, something would probably go terribly wrong. "I have a really bad headache," I answered, thinking of the weird-tasting air that morning and deciding that I'd go for a mild sinus/allergy related problem.

"Okay. Can you tell me where, specifically?" she asked, and I motioned in the general area around my eyes and nose. "Okay." She types a little more and some information showed up in pop-ups on the screen as she went. "Let's take your temperature."

I almost groaned. My body temperature was generally a degree or more below normal. It fact, if my temperature ever hit normal, it was usually an indication that I was sick. This meant that no matter how sick I was, I'd always end up going to school or whatever event my parents felt like forcing me into. The nurse grabbed a thermometer off her desk and stuck it into a box. When she withdrew it, the sensitive part was covered in plastic. My blood seemed to boil with irritation, but when she was done, the nurse was unalarmed. "No fever," she declared. _Of course not. Maybe I should stick my finger down my throat._ "I think the only physical health problem you're dealing with right now is a little bit of an allergy problem. It's pretty late in the spring to be dealing with that, but it's not all that uncommon. Why don't you go see Mrs. Landry and let her decide what to do with you?"

I wasn't sure, but I decided that Mrs. Landry was probably the guidance counselor. _Yet another person I don't want to see. Pretend to be sane, 'Mara. Pretend to be sane._

It took me a minute to track down her office and I actually had to ask the secretary, but when I knocked she answered almost immediately. "Miss Easterling, come in! Hello, dear!" I paused. I couldn't exactly pull up my shirt in public, so I grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the secretary's desk. She raised her neatly drawn eyebrows at me, but I used it to open the door before shoving it in my pocket. The I closed it with my foot.

Mrs. Landry was an older, wrinkly lady with golden-brown graying hair and twinkly brown eyes. She gestured for me to sit in a green chair in front of her desk, and I did, folding my hands neatly in my lap. "Miss Easterling, I was told you've had quite the morning," she told me cheerfully as a starter to our conversation, and I simply stared shyly up at her. After all, while I'd never been particularly shy, I'd actively chosen not to talk to people, especially when I was younger. Hopefully this was in character.

Finally, I replied, "Yes ma'am."

"Ms. Mavis told me that you were crying out and speaking nonsensically. Is there a reason for that?" she asked kindly.

"I had a terrible headache when I woke up this morning," I blabbed, then frowned deeper. I never spoke without thinking. What was up with that?

"When she and Mrs. Anderson came into your room, you hid from them, Amara," Mrs. Landry reminded me gently.

"The light hurt," I blurted, "and I couldn't see their faces very well. I was scared." _What on Earth? There goes my allergy story…_

"Hm. The nurse doesn't have a history of migraines recorded for you," Mrs. Landry told me, staring at her laptop. "Do you know what a migraine is, dear?"

"No," I lied. I'd actually had my fair share of migraines before. Usually they were very short but very intense. That morning, of course, hadn't a thing to do with migraines.

"They're very intense headaches, Amara," she explained, "and a lot of times people who have migraines are very sensitive to light." Well, obviously I did know that, or I wouldn't have been spitting it out like it tasted bad. Like it was instinct. "A lot of times migraines are brought on by stress. Do you remember discussing sleep terrors with your old school counselor?"

I decided that it was inappropriate to really respond to that question and looked down at my lap.

"I believe that you experienced a sleep terror, Amara. When you woke up this morning, did you feel distressed?"

I was suddenly very impressed with myself, since I could see where she was going now. I was also disappointed that this version of me was so very manipulative. "Yes, but I wanted to try really hard to get over it," I explained.

"Sleep terrors and the insomnia you've been experiencing recently cause a great deal of stress, Amara," Mrs. Landry said. She leaned forward, staring me down over her desk. "I think you had a sleep terror last night and it pushed you over the edge, causing your migraine this morning, and the sense of panic you felt."

"Okay," I said acceptingly, even though there were quite a few holes in that theory.

"Generally these aren't things to be concerned about, but yours have persisted for a very long time. You've also reached the age where you shouldn't be experiencing them for much longer. If this continues, please alert me or the nurse. It could be a more serious issue. Do you understand, Miss Easterling?"

"Yes, Mrs. Landry," I said obediently.

"Good girl." Mrs. Landry typed for a few straight seconds. "Would you like to talk to your guardians?"

"No," I lied. I did want to talk to my parents. But not now. And _my_ parents.

"Alright. I want you to rest for today," Mrs. Landry said. "I've excused you from your classes, but you are fully expected to make up the work. And remember, if this becomes a recurring problem, let someone know."

"Yes ma'am."

"Go wait in the office for someone to escort you back to your dorm, Mrs. Easterling."

* * *

 **Ø**

* * *

I sat quietly in my seat, staring tiredly at my math book as I waited for class to start. I had slept through an entire day. It was funny how doing something like that actually made you feel more tired in the end. Sort of like how I always seemed to become exhausted if I had to sit in a car for too long.

Even more horribly, I'd discovered that, at this school, only students above sixteen were allowed to have coffee. I'd managed to snag a cup on the student black market with a quarter out of the money I'd found in my backpack, but I didn't have enough quarters to last the rest of the school year. It was crappy coffee, too.

"Hey, Amara!" called a chubby girl with short black hair and happy green eyes. She stood by my desk and smiled down at me. She was wearing a skirt, and even though I hated generalising, I immediately marked her as very girlish - though it wasn't just down to her choice of dress. "Missing your coffee again."

"Definitely," I moaned, propping my head up in the palm of my hand. "I feel like I might pass out any minute now."

The girl chuckled at me. "Well, I hope you're feeling better. I wanted to check on you, but you were asleep when Gracie and I got to the room." _Gracie? Oh. Sarah-Grace. So she's either Nancy or -_

"Phoebe!" screeched a girl with brilliantly red hair and orange freckles. "Oh, it's you, Mary." I cringed. _Mary?_ "Back from the dead, huh?" She smiled, like she was being friendly, but it was pretty obvious that she was making fun of me. I raised an eyebrow at her in response.

"My name is Amara," I told her coolly.

"And with a personality now, too! You never used to talk," she said, covering her mouth with a pale hand as she laughed at me. I guess a normal twelve-year-old would have been pissed, but I'd dealt with meaner, cleverer bullies than her before, and most of them had learned it was unwise to bother me in time.

I was less worried about the kids pinpointed any adjustments to my personality than I was with the adults. Kids couldn't make me see a shrink or put me on meds, after all. Besides, I still wasn't entirely sure that this was real. I hadn't noticed any obvious signs that it wasn't, but it seemed too strange to be realistic.

"Nancy," Phoebe said warningly, and then turned back to me. "Anyways, what are you doing out of your assigned seat? Mrs. Dodds will kill you!" I was so shell-shocked that I didn't even notice her picking up my books and plunking them into a desk a few spots away. _Mrs. Dodds? Nancy the Ginger Bitch?_ I was hit by a total wave of familiarity, but before I had much time to ponder it, the bell rang.

"Better get to your desk, Mary!" Nancy giggle-snorted, and I jumped my desk to get to the one where Phoebe had placed my books. I slid into my seat just as the teacher came in, bringing with her the smell of spicy perfume and an uncomfortable churning of my stomach. She was ancient and wrinkly, like some hideous hag, and she was absolutely tiny. It was also evident that she was one of those awful old ladies who can't accept that their glory days are over, so they dress like teenagers to compensate for all their wrinkles. Hideous. She wore a pitch black leather jacket and had a mean look about her. I made a mental note to stay on her good side.

She sat down in a desk in the front of the room, and that's when the dread hit me. Even if this was a dream, I was about to live through sixth grade math _again._ Of all the classes to retake, it had to be this one. _Why did this have to happen to me? Is this because I'm in a coma and my mind wants me to wake up? Because I'm totally willing. Please, please let me wake up. This isn't even just because of the math. Please._

But I didn't wake up. Actually, things got worse. "Amara Easterling?" called Mrs. Dodds, snapping me back to the present(?). She had a Southern accent, which might have been pleasant if it wasn't eight-thirty in the morning. Plus, it just _wasn't_ pleasant. I can't even explain it. "You're not in your assigned seat. Now, honey…" I felt my mind go haywire, again, like there was something right in front of my face that I was missing. Like there was a clear block in my mind. "... why is that?"

I heard some giggling behind me, and then Nancy whispering, "I can't believe she did it! What a ditz!" Phoebe, the girl who'd moved my stuff there in the first place, giggled in response. My cheeks reddened slightly, and I made a promise to myself to take revenge.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Dodds." I couldn't tell her I'd forgotten where my assigned seat was. She'd pass it on and the nurse or whoever was in charge of deciding whether I needed to see a doctor would decide I'd sustained some brain damage within the last couple of days. _So, excuse or no excuse?_ I looked at her and decided that she was the no nonsense type. _Go minimal._ "I wasn't thinking about it." I stood up and turned around. Luckily, there was one empty spot that was pretty obviously mine, so I walked past my snickering classmates and sat down.

"We are well over three-quarters through the year, Miss Easterling," Mrs. Dodds said, her voice hushed, but somehow echoing through the room. "See me after class."

And just like that, she started talking about dividing fractions.

I wasn't sure _how_ I was going to get revenge on Nancy and Phoebe, but since I was half-sure this was a dream, I figured I'd go all out. I had several advantages over them. The first one, I thought, was intelligence. Just to be frank, I'm an intelligent person anyways. I've always been a thinker, which was why I was so shocked by the blurting and what I _thought_ was pretty obvious lying to teachers. I had no problem using my intelligence against Phoebe and her freckled friend, and I really didn't think it was a half-bad idea to ruin their lives (here at school, anyways). I wouldn't do anything too awful, and even if I did… well, with a temper like mine, intelligence didn't always win out, even without the new impulsiveness I was experiencing.

While Mrs. Dodds talked, I doodled absently in the margins. One of them was my baby brother, Josiah, running with his arms outstretched, but I started to fall into my mid-period slumber while I did the others. When I was awakened by the bell, I caught a glimpse of them just long enough to be disturbed before a slammed my book shut and jammed it in my bag.

"Now honey," Mrs. Dodds said in her sweet old lady Georgian accent, "are you forgetting something?" I mentally swore and took the pink slip she was holding out. It doomed me to my first ever after-school detention (yes, including my 'real' school career). The old hag grinned at me as I left, and as that nostalgic feeling hit me and turned, I remembered my sketch: a bat-winged Mrs. Dodds with a mouthful of fangs, chewing at the head of a boy I'd never seen before.

I would have to take care to erase that from the book, if I erased anything at all.

* * *

 **Ø**

* * *

Oddly enough, it was the smallest thing that made me remember.

Here's the thing; I hadn't forgotten. I think I already knew where I was, and what was going to happen within a matter of days. But I didn't like it, and so my brain tucked it into its depths so I could be safe it my own ignorance.

It was enchilada day. Lucky for me, the cafeteria food at Yancy Academy was pretty good, or I would have starved before I even had a chance to remember. The aroma coming from the kitchens was incredible, and I was just about to run straight to it.

That's what did it.

I'd figured out Nancy Bobofit's last name, the name of the school, and I'd gone through three of Mr. Brunner's lessons, but what really brought me to attention was enchilada day. Because before I had a chance to run into the cafeteria, somebody else did: this crippled kid called Rover or something, who was scared shitless of Mrs. Dodds and sometimes hung out in Mr. Brunner's even after the bell rang.

I saw him running, and then it hit me: _that's Grover Underwood._

 _And that guy behind him is Percy Jackson. PERCY. JACKSON._

 _I did detention with a Fury._

 _My Latin teacher is a centaur._

 _Mother of God. Th-the gods. Damn it - I'm going to die. Gods. Gods. This is the world of Percy Jackson._

Needless to say, I didn't have any enchiladas that day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

I dumped my tray in the garbage and speed walked to the school store, lugging my bookbag behind me. I was pretty sure that I was seconds away from blowing chunks, but our field trip was the next day and then term would be over in less than a month. I didn't have time to hang out in the bathroom and throw up. I needed to figure out a course of action, which, to me, was actually something I could debate with myself. I'm sure a lot of people would have known right off the bat that they wanted to meet and help Percy, or that they wanted to find out where Percy was going and then go the opposite direction, right off the bat. I was different. I was the kind of person who always wanted to be brave, but also wanted to preserve their own life. I'd never had the urge to be a princess of a superhero like other kids, even when I was little. Deep down, I'd always been content with following a career path that would make me happy and allow me to support my parents when they needed it. Sure, sometimes I fantasized about what would happen if I won the lottery or something, but that wasn't what I'd really wanted.

Still, I wasn't selfish enough to really believe that leading an apple pie life was more important than the whole world, imaginary or not. Percy succeeded in the end, but there were some things I'd be able to smooth over. People I could save.

I came to a screeching stop in front of the (legal) school store, which had established itself in a small room with a huge window and bar out into the hallway. It was probably intended to be a concession stand, actually. A really badly placed concession stand, since the gym wasn't even in this building. The school store basically sold things that were absolutely must-haves, like pencils, erasers, and extra time on the school computers. I'd also heard that, if you caught the right guy, he'd sell over-the-counter meds to you _under_ -the-counter. We were supposed to get that sort of thing from the nurse, but it was a hassle and a whole lot easier just to have your own stash. That wasn't what I was there for, though it might have actually come in handy.

I glanced at a stack of composition notebooks and then looked away before I even had a chance to check the price tag. I hated those. They weren't sturdy at all; it seems like the covers always fell off after a few months, no matter how careful I was. Plus, it's impossible to neatly tear pages from those things. Too much of a headache for a dumb notebook. Luckily, the store also had the spiral bound kind (the old ones made with one piece of wire, that _actually stay in one piece_ ). I looked at the price and cringed. The coffee here was crap, but still… there went my coffee money for the next couple of _weeks. Man._ I grabbed three of them, which was probably a lot more than what I needed, but it seemed good, just in case. a handed over three bucks and shoved two of the notebooks in my bookbag whilst pulling out a pencil. I hurried in the general direction of the cafeteria and then stopped, leaning against a wall and sinking to the floor. Depending on what I decided to do, I wouldn't need this, but I was worried that the longer I waited, the fewer details I'd remember. Sure, I'd read the PJO books almost a dozen times, but even the biggest fan could get a little rusty.

I started to write, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching me. Sure enough, the hallway was clear. I hesitated. Was this really a good idea? If the wrong person found me with a notebook full of the future, I'd be in trouble. _Big_ trouble. If someone less bad found me, I'd just wind up on medications - more medications. I already had to take some, though I wasn't sure what there were or what they were supposed to do. Still, I wasn't game to stuff my body with even more pills every morning, since the ones I already took made me feel nauseas and even more lethargic than I already was. More side effects were the last things I wanted.

 _I'll just have to be careful._ Least of all could Nancy find these. If that happened, they'd either go mysteriously missing or the entire school would read. Both options were bad. Unfortunately, there wasn't anywhere foolproof to hide it - not in my room and not in the entire girl's dorm. I'd have to sleep with it or something.

I looked down, expecting to see my own sloppy version of shorthand (eg more lazy writing than actual shorthand) but my handwriting was actually really neat, and it was taking me a long time. I frowned. _What the hell?_ My handwriting had been neater when I was younger, and when my teachers had to breathe occasionally, giving us a chance to take neat notes, but I hadn't been like that in forever. If my personality had carried over like some of the students had noticed, shouldn't my handwriting have made the transition as well? I tried to write faster, but then I couldn't even make sense of my own writing. I blinked a few times and brought the notebook closer to my face, but it took me a minute to realize what had taken me almost three minutes to write out.

 _Leuk is BAD, Ares stelo otlb_

I felt almost humiliated. This was _so_ not me. I'd been reading college student-oriented books at this age before, but I couldn't even spell 'Luke' or 'stole'? I hurriedly erased what I'd written, tears pricking my eyes. I'd have to check that out later. Was this me stupid or something? What if I couldn't read? I hadn't been paying attention to any of my classes, least of all English, as I hadn't thought I needed them, but… clearly I'd been wrong.

Pictures it was then. Luckily, my art skills seemed to have carried over, and even if the only things I'd ever been good at using were pencil and pen, that was all I needed right now.

I doodled a picture of a decent looking guy with short, spiky hair inside of a 'no' symbol, and then a sloppy caricature of a buff man holding a cartoon lightning bolt. In between the two, I drew a watch on a serving platter ( _serving the Lord of Time,_ I imagined) and there was the main point of the first book. I turned several pages and then thought back on the second book. That one, I'd always been less familiar with, since I'd lent it out to a friend for _five years_ and hadn't read it as much as the others as a result. Still, I remembered the basics: Thalia's tree got poisoned, Grover almost got eaten by a Cyclops. So I doodled a tree with a curly, woolly fur hanging from it and a profile image of an eye with very long, dark eyelashes and the reflection of fangs in the black, lifeless pupil. I also drew a sloppy boat underneath it to remind myself of _the Odyssey._ The I went on with The Titan's Curse, The Battle of the Labyrinth, and The Last Olympian, doodling a few large things in the center of the page to remind me of the main point of that book.

The good thing about this was that it would be a little bit harder for anybody else to tell what it was really about. Still, I had to put a surprising amount of effort into making sure that they just looked like random illustrations, albeit in a weird and occasionally morbid style. As I was finishing up with the fifth book's main doodles, the bell rang. I shoved it in my bag and hurried off to English class, which was luckily just down the hall. I remembered my struggled to write down a few simple words and my heart dropped in disgust and disappointment. I slid into my seat and put my head down on my desk. I was wearing glasses, but what was the point of them if I couldn't do what I loved the most anyways? What if that wasn't just a brief, weird thing and I honestly _couldn't_ read for the life of me? That was my favorite hobby, down the drain. I wondered if praying to God would have any effect in PJO world, then decided it wouldn't. Instead, I shot my pleas up to the goddess of wisdom and hoped that this was some freaky fluke.

Mr. Nicholl started class and put a short story up on the projector. I quickly discovered that it wasn't.

The story was supposed to be about culture. It was about this Mexican-American girl who grew up in Idaho the American way until her aunt came to visit from Mexico city. It was exactly what you'd expect of a middle-school short story: the girl thinks her aunt is a dumbass but then is surprised how _totally awesome_ her heritage and culture is, and it _changes her life forever._

Sort of like the fact that I couldn't read at all.

I wanted to throw up.

Usually when I get like that, there's something within the tells me to stop being a drama queen, but this time, there wasn't a single brain cell that felt I was overreacting.

Reading was a huge part of my person. I'd always been leagues ahead of the others in my class in terms of reading level - usually I was reading stuff five to eight grade levels ahead. People always thought I was really clever because of it, and it was really the only thing I had to be proud of. I'd never been a very good person, my body was, I thought, lacking, and even though I was incredibly smart, I didn't put enough effort forth in other academic areas to excel the same way. In terms of art, I couldn't paint or sculpt or work with copic markers or exacto knives - just pen and pencil. I'd drop out of martial arts after only a few months of training, and I sucked at PE. Reading was what made me proud of myself, and I'd lost it.

I ended up getting another detention, because in the middle of class I stood to get a Kleenex so quickly that my desk flipped, and when Nicholl tried to check on me, I 'replied in a sarcastic and degrading manner in front of an already restless and disrespectful class'.

 _Well, fuck Nicholl. I'll figure this out myself._

I didn't have time to research that afternoon, since I have to stay after school and wash his blackboards, erasers, and desks, but I knew I'd have to sooner or later. There had to be some way to fix this, right? Because it was obvious enough that I was suffering dyslexia. Of course, that was a problem in and of itself, but at least I didn't have ADHD. That definitely lowered the chances of anything _too_ weird going on.

Right?

* * *

 **Ø**

* * *

"Is there ketchup in that?" I asked, feeling one hundred percent disgusted. It wasn't just because of the peanut-butter-and-ketchup sandwich. It was because I was seated by Nancy Bobofit, who I had grown to hate more and more as time went on. Her very presence repulsed me, and here I was, sandwiched between her and the window. She smelled weird, like she hadn't showered, but the smell was going away. Either that, or I was just getting used to it.

A glob of the sandwich planted itself in Grover Underwood's curly hair and I cringed. Poor dude. She'd be throwing a lot more, and since he was directly diagonal from us, she didn't have to go to much effort to hit him. Of course, I wasn't exactly swimming in sympathy, since I was too occupied with what would go down today. I really wasn't planning on doing anything, since today was important to the entire plot, but it still freaked me out to know that today, Mrs. Dodds would let her hair down, per se, and make her attack.

"What do you think?" Nancy asked sweetly, dropping a piece of the sandwich in my lap before turning back to Grover. At first I was enraged, but I slowly settled down when an idea hit me. She was being particularly cruel and had peeled the sandwich opened so that the interior of the sandwich was exposed - trying to get it to stick to Grover or even Percy, I guess. So when she turned to throw another piece of sandwich, I picked up the piece in my lap and delicately, gently stuck it to the back of her head. Her hair was so thick that it acted as a cushion, and if she felt it, she didn't do anything. Then, best of all, she _leaned back,_ and I had to turn away to stop myself from laughing. "What happened to your piece, Mary? Did you eat it?"

"Saving it for later," I replied smartly, wiping an amused tear from the corner of my eye. Nancy snickered and went back to throwing sandwich at Grover. I glanced at her back, where the bread was still firmly stuck, but mashed. Peanut butter and glistening, red ketchup was smeared all through her ginger locks. A lock of her hair was stuck together, and the back was in knots now.

The bus began to slow and then rolled to a stop in front of this neat looking building with four sets of two pillars and crowds pushing through the door in the front. I'd never been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but I couldn't really make myself look forward to it for obvious reasons. I had a bad feeling that I'd be spending more time anticipating the future of this trip than actually enjoying it.

We all filed out of the bus and I hurriedly stepped out behind Nancy, since I didn't want anyone to know about the sandwich in her hair. She was pretty stupid, so if I waited about fifteen minutes, she'd forget that she'd even given me a piece of her nasty lunch and I wouldn't get in trouble even if she did realize how gross the back of her head now was. Besides that, I really wanted it to stay there as long as possible.

I checked my pockets. All my stuff was still there, which meant that she hadn't done any pickpocketing on the bus. That was surprising, considering that I had a debit card in my pocket (I guess it made sense that my family was rich since I was going to Yancy), but it was a good surprise. If she'd taken it, I'd have to deck her before Percy even had a chance to think about dunking her in the fountain. "Hey, Underwood," I called, waving my hand, and the brunette turned to look at me. "You've got ketchup in your hair." The sandwich wasn't there anymore, but… gross. Actually, I really needed to wash my hands. Who knew where Nancy Bobofit's hands had been, or who else had been inside that bus.

"Thanks," said Grover, looking confused as my nose wrinkled along with my thoughts. I held out a small packet of disinfectant wipes from my left pocket and he took one, looking _really,_ really puzzled. Then he wiped his hair off and threw it in the garbage. I, on the other hand, obsessively scrubbed at the skin of my palms, fingers, knuckles, and wrists even as Mr. Brunner began to talk to us about some of what we were seeing.

The ceilings inside were high and domed, in some places. I was sure that if I shouted, my voice would echo many times over. After all, Mr. Brunner definitely wasn't yelling, and his voice echoed a little. He rolled on in his wheelchair and we followed him. Ordinarily, I would have fallen behind and gotten in trouble for staying to read each and every plaque as I analyzed each sculpture, and I felt myself sinking into misery again. I yawned, swaying on the spot as I blinked myself awake and tried to force myself to listen to Mr. Brunner. Unfortunately, I, as usual, felt completely drained, and my brain was having none of it.

"This is so stupid," hissed Nancy to Phoebe. "It isn't like it's the Mona Lisa. Like, can we _move on_?"

Phoebe giggled. "Apparently Mr. Brunner thinks it is."

"I don't get why we have to look at all this old stuff anyways," complained Sarah-Grace.

"But isn't it kind of cool that this stuff has managed to survive for so long, Gracie?" offered a brunette girl whose name I hadn't bothered to learn.

"Only because people took good care of it," Phoebe protested.

"Shut up," snarled Percy from the far right. I could practically feel Mrs. Dodds staring at us. I remembered that from the books, but they didn't even begin to cover how freaky she was. When you can not only tell that someone is t\staring at you without looking, but _who_ is staring at you without looking, it's just not a good sign. I was only glad that she wasn't looking at me.

Really, it was a shame that I wasn't enjoying the trip more. In real life, even before I had read the Percy Jackson books, I loved mythology, though it was Greek mythology and ancient Egyptian art that enraptured me the most. So most of the story-related stuff was simple for me. In addition, I had a little experience with learning new languages, since I'd been taking German for three years before waking up at Yancy Academy. Memorizing vocab and grammatical rules had always been easy for me anyways, so I figured that plus my experience was probably why I was the top student in Mr. Brunner's (aka Chiron's) class.

Yes, I was top in something. Not that it made up for my English issues.

"... she spends all her time drawing gore in that dumb notebook," Nancy said, and I noted that she was staring. _Trying to get a rise out of me, huh?_ "We all have our issues, but I bet she's a crazy psychopath. I don't know why they put her in dorms with the rest of us."

"She isn't very smart either. We've all seen how long it takes her to read a single word," the brunette girl mused. My blood ran cold, and I felt myself waking from my drowsiness.

"Whatever," Sarah-Grace said dismissively. "She hasn't strangled us in our sleep so she can't be too bad."

Phoebe giggled. "At least she hasn't stolen anyone's -"

"Shut up," snapped Nancy.

"Shut _up,_ " Percy whisper-shouted, but the girls kept on talking and Mrs. Dodds shot him a glare again. I pushed through to the front of the crowd so I could actually hear.

"... about five-fifty BC," Mr. Brunner was saying, gesturing at something incredibly small and white. It looked like a pebble, but I couldn't be sure. "Engraved jewels like this one often showed images of animals and occasionally portraits." He paused. "Miss Easterling. Could you tell us all what is engraved on this gem?"

"Mmm?" I was momentarily caught off guard, but I stepped forward and peered at the pale gem through half-lidded eyes. The smell of coffee grew stronger the closer I got to Mr. Brunner. I was incredibly jealous. "A satyr."

"Excellent, Miss Easterling," Mr. Brunner said, eyes sparkling. I looked away and rolled my eyes. Apparently he doubted that I'd been paying attention, and he was right to, since as usual, I was half-in, half out. I allowed myself to fall into the back of the crowd again and looked around. The building was massive anyways, but in my twelve-year-old body, it seemed even more so. I was insignificant; insignificant compared to this huge building and the ancient things within it, and insignificant compared to all that was going to happen soon.

So why was I even here? What was the point?

We were walking again. We stopped at a carving made from animal bone and some pottery. I should have taken the time to enjoy it, but I didn't. Instead, I spent a huge portion of my time with my eyes half-closed, trying not to think about anything.

We stopped in front of a stele. I certainly recognized it; this was the part where good Mr. B. would pester the crap out of Percy. I pushed my glasses up onto my nose and opened my eyes just a millimeter more to let in more light. It had a well-carved sphinx on top, and the rest of it was sort of shaped like an obelisk with the top part cut off. On the facet we could see, there was a naked man. Even with my glasses on, the image wasn't clear from that distance, so I couldn't make out too much more. Overall, it was like a lot of classic art. Not really realistic, but recognizable in style. Aside from what was about to go down right here, right now, there was nothing fascinating at all.

If I recalled correctly, the Greeks believed that the way a body was treated after death was incredibly important. If it was handled properly, they might not make it into the afterlife. For instance, they point the coin in the mouth of the dead person, so they could ferry over the Styx. And I was pretty sure they had some kind of funeral rites, and that they might even make sacrifices to or for the dead person.

It was far from what I'd done at funerals as a Baptist, but it was obvious that my Christian views didn't really apply here.

"Nice dick," I heard Nancy Bobofit say, and I groaned. Honestly, these kids were brainless. Not that high school kids were any better.

Before I had time to say something rude, Percy Jackson did. "Will you _shut up_?" he said, probably for the seventh or eighth time in the past couple of minutes.

"No point, dude," I whispered. "You can't fix stupid."

Nancy turned to me, about to make a sarcastic comment, but Mr. Brunner called, "Mr. Jackson, did you have a comment?"

I turned back to Percy. He was totally flushed. I remember in the books, he said Mr. Brunner was his favorite teacher. He was probably embarrassed. "No, sir," he answered respectfully.

"Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?" Mr. Brunner asked him. For once, I knew that Percy wasn't at a disadvantage. This was a picture, and it was one we'd seen before. There wasn't a word on it, so his own dyslexia wouldn't be a problem. Even if there had been text there, it would have been Greek. Again, not a problem.

"That's Kronos eating his kids, right?" Percy replied casually, but Mr. Brunner asked him to expand on that. "... Kronos was the king god, and -"

"God?" our teacher asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Titan," Percy corrected. "And… he didn't trust his kids -" I snorted. _No kidding._ "- um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up -" I snorted to myself again, remembering Zeus's 'grown up' behavior in the books. "- so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans, and the gods won."

Simple. Even for Percy. I flashed a smile at him, as if in congratulations, and turned away from the snickers of the Bobofit Bunch. That's when I noticed it: Mr. Brunner was _staring_ at me. He looked back at Percy almost immediately, like he was musing on what Percy had said, but I was confused. Was it the snorting? _What did I do to warrant attention?_ "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

The truth was that I kind of saw her point. I mean, even now, Greek mythology was just something interesting to study. It was fun. It was fascinating. but there really wasn't anything to learn from it, unless you counted 'don't be like the gods because they sleep around and are basically trigger happy lunatics'. They weren't like Aesop's fables or anything. Sure, sometimes the myths had a sub-lesson. But they were mostly just stories.

Still, just because I hated Nancy Bobofit, I turned to look at her like she was the dumbest person this side of the Mississippi.

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner began, and I grinned at Nancy, leering at her through my nearly shut eyes, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

Percy, of course, looked like a deer caught in the headlights, since there was no real way for him to know the answer. It was actually kind of mean for Mr. Brunner to ask him that, but that was adult logic for you. "I don't know, sir," he answered finally.

"I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed, which wasn't really fair, but it also wasn't my business. Depending on my upcoming decision, I wouldn't even see percy again after term finished. "Well, haalf crediiit, Mrrrrr. Jaaaackss…" And then he lost me. I had trouble paying attention in class, but it was never anything so bad and obvious. It was more like I used to miss chunks of the lesson because I'd fall asleep if the teacher talked too long. But it wasn't like this was a grammar-rules-you've-been-learning-over-and-over-for-years sort of thing, and Mr. Brunner didn't ramble on and on about things. This was interesting, so it bothered me that I kept missing things, that I couldn't keep my eyes up front, and that the only time I was ever really awake was when I should have been sleeping.

I headed out to lunch with the rest of the class without even glancing back at Percy. It was probably rude for me to ignore him - I hadn't even made eye contact with him before until I'd smiled at him earlier - but I hadn't come to a decision about how to move on, and I didn't want a personal relationship with the kid to cloud my judgement. My stomach growled and I rubbed my stomach, pulling the single apple I'd brought with me from my pocket the instant I stepped outside. It wasn't cold anymore, the way I liked my apples, but it would do. I sat down by the fountain, since it was hot out, and the brightness made me lazy, like a cat stretched out in the sunlight, and the fountain provided a lot of shade. _I should probably be better about hydrating myself._

Yeah, that was a bad decision.

The apple was pretty good - red delicious. I wiped it off with a disinfectant wipe and rubbed that off with the inside of my sweater sleeve, and then I bit into it, savoring the supple crunch of the flesh of the fruit. It had just the texture I'd been hoping for - not all apples did - and it was just sweet enough to satisfy my tastes. Juice ran down my chin and I licked it off, taking another huge bite.

Grover and Percy sat down less than six feet from me, but I didn't mind them. They weren't talking to me, after all. I didn't want them to.

"Detention?" Grover asked as I stretched into a yawn, scooting away so they wouldn't think I was eavesdropping.

"Nah, not from Brunner," Percy answered, though he sounded upset. Irritated, even. _And for good reason._ "I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean - I'm not a geniu - Hey. You're top in our class, right?"

My heart literally stopped for a second. I turned slowly his was, like I wasn't sure he was talking to me. After all, people didn't talk to me, unless they were Nancy Bobofit. "Yes," I answered, meeting his sea green stare. He had really intense eyes. But even if I hadn't been a talker at age twelve - still wasn't at sixteen, but I was bolder now - I was never one to be intimidated by someone's gaze (unless they were Mrs. Dodds) so I met them evenly.

"So did you know the answer?" Percy asked urgently, his black brows drawing together in frustration. Grover stared at me worriedly, but if I was remembering the first chapter of the book right, he was usually concerned about something. It probably had nothing to do with me.

"Not off the top of my head," I replied, and Percy looked terribly disappointed. I paused for a moment. I couldn't tell Percy who he was right now - Grover would undoubtedly stop me - but I could say something else. "I don't think it was your stereotypical 'you can learn from it' answer, though. I mean, most of those events couldn't really be applied to our everyday lives. They don't have any moral value at all. Maybe he was trying to convince you to say something clever."

"Events?" Percy asked, raising his eyebrows. _He caught it. He isn't entirely hopeless._

Still, my heart was catching in my throat, and I felt really embarrassed for some reason. "Well… I guess I think about some of the advancements the Ancient Greeks made and I think… well, they weren't stupid. They were artists. Thinkers. Scientists. Would the same people who produced Aristotle be wrong about all that other stuff?" Grover looked borderline terrified now, but the only thing I was worried about was that I didn't make any sense.

Still, Percy seemed to get what I was saying. "So… you believe in gods? You think Mr. Brunner -"

"Not necessarily," I interrupted, shaking my head. "It's just… something I think about sometimes. I'm sorry. I really went off on that one, huh?" Percy smiled a little, but he seemed to be deep in thought. _Bingo…_ "But maybe it was just 'you can learn from them' after all. Who knows."

The satyr looked relieved, and then we stopped talking. I took another bite of my apple and frowned. With the heat out there, it would get warm soon. _Gross._ I'd have to eat it quickly.

Within a few minutes, the water would yank Nancy into the water as if on its own accord. Within minutes of the, Mrs. Dodds would reveal herself as the Fury Alecto. It occurred to me that, as a mortal, I'd be affected by the Mist after words. _Won't I? Damn._ Then the decision to help Percy or not wouldn't be mine at all. Why would I be transported here if I was destined to do nothing? Why would I be taken away from my life and my family so I could do _nothing_? I scowled and began to dig through my pockets. Nothing. And I hadn't brought my lunch sack, so… no pen. _Damn! My fingernails aren't even long enough for me to make marks on my skin. I'll have no way to take notes. And if my memories of Mrs. Dodds are destroyed, what if I forget the rest of the books? I didn't finish the notebook yesterday. In fact, all I have is the basic plot, and none of that will make sense if I can't remember details and characters._ How was I supposed to solve this one?

And then Nancy Bobofit just _had_ to walk over.

I'd hated her from the start, and I'd known she was going to come by the fountain from the minute I sat there. But I didn't think I was going to talk to Percy (and Grover, by extension, I guess). I already wanted revenge on her for embarrassing me the first time I ever attended a class at Yancy, and for being a jerk the entire time I'd known her. Somehow, talking to those two guys must have made me sympathetic, because when she walked over and dumped her lunch all over Grover. I was pissed. And I could also see that Percy was pissed, even more than I was, really. I saw everything that was about to happen like images flashing through my mind, and the new, impulsive side of me rose, my body suddenly bursting with adrenaline. I was standing before I even realized it.

I reached out and shoved Nancy Bobofit straight into the lukewarm water of the museum's fountain.

* * *

 _And there was chapter two! It's a bit long but hopefully it was decent. Please drop a review if you can! They really do inspire me to get off my butt and write (:  
Have any suggestions? Feel free to leave them. I'm writing this story as I go (though I do have a few chapters prewritten at a time, so if you have any ideas regarding the near future you should let me know fast._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

I don't know if it was an incredibly reckless attempt at prolonging Percy's naivety and safety, or if it was really just my hatred of Nancy, but either way, it _was_ reckless. Reckless and unsuccessful.

The water didn't form a hand or anything, but just as Nancy began to fall, a stream of it seemed to rise up and aid gravity with pulling her under. Then, several things happened at the same time. Percy and I made eye contact. He was flushed in anger, and I'm sure my ears were bright red. Nancy screamed. Simultaneously, Mrs. Dodds showed up. When Percy mentioned that she 'materialized' in the book, he was _not_ exaggerating. One second she was there, and then she wasn't.

Mrs. Dodds helped Nancy out of the fountain first. She was totally soaked and looked like she'd peed herself. And who knows? Maybe she had. I may be short, but I've been told that an angry me is an intimidating sight to behold. Either way, I felt suddenly self-satisfied, like I had accomplished something incredible. It wasn't my revenge yet, but… it was close.

I met eyes with Percy again. He was calming down, but looking at Mrs. Dodds with a sense of dread. "I pushed her," I told him, because it was pretty clear that he'd embodied the phrase 'blind with rage' and probably hadn't seen it. "But Percy, you -"

"I'm in _so_ much trouble," he muttered, "again. It won't matter."

"Percy, listen," I snapped urgently. Don't go with her, I -" Had to stop. Mrs. Dodds was returning from her Nancyfest.

And then, even though she _must_ have seen what happened, she turned on Percy. "Now, honey -"

It was ridiculous, but I felt insulted.

"I know," Percy muttered. "A month erasing workbooks."

"Hey!" I snapped, and the ugly old hag turned to me, looking at me not with the irritated indifference I'd expected, but with actual consideration. I suddenly felt less brave, but I'd drawn her attention, and I needed to continue. My stomach twisted in knots. "I pushed Nancy, not him. You can as -"

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said, looking somehow more satisfied than she had in the instant before her expression changed, "both of you."

"What? But Percy didn't -"

"That's enough, honey," she said sweetly, and I swallowed. Why was she paying me any attention at all? I was a mortal, wasn't I? A mortal with dyslexia… who took meds I'd never heard of. What if they were for ADHD? I knew almost nothing about the disorder, so I couldn't exactly self-diagnose. Besides, even if I didn't have ADHD, it didn't have to mean I wasn't a demigod. And if I did, that didn't necessarily mean that I was. There are weirdos in every bunch, after all.

All I knew was that the interest the Fury was giving me didn't seem to indicate that I was a mortal. I swallowed and followed her, as did Percy.

I turned around to look at Nancy in her wet clothes. She looked like she was trying to seem smug, but failing. When I turned back around, Mrs. Dodds was already on the steps to the museum. There was another concerning thing: Mrs. Dodds could teleport, or fly or something, and I was noticing her doing it. I looked around as I walked. Nobody was reacting to it, not even Percy, but I remembered he'd explained it away using his ADHD. Nobody had reacted to it at the fountain, either. And if they weren't reacting to teleportation, then… well, they weren't _seeing_ it. And I was.

 _Maybe I'm just a mortal who can see through the Mist,_ I thought halfheartedly.

"Thanks for trying to fess up for me," Percy muttered, but I didn't answer. I couldn't. "You and Grover." I nodded. I'd heard Grover rambling desperately to try and come with us, but I was so freaked out I hadn't paid much attention.

Mrs. Dodds was waiting for us inside the building. I got there shortly before Percy for some reason, and tugged nervously on the collar of the uniform. When Percy got to where we were, he started heading to the gift shop, but stopped and followed Mrs. Dodds and I when he noticed us heading the other direction. I myself was seriously debating whether to turn and run back to 'Mr. Brunner' as fast as possible or just go with the flow. I knew how things were supposed to go with Percy, but what if she killed me right off the bat? What if I'd screwed everything up already?

"Mrs. Dodds," I said. My adrenaline had been slowly dying down into fear, coiled like a snake in the pit of my stomach, so instead of sounding tired I just sounded… flat. "I don't know that it's appropriate for us to stray so far from the rest of the class." _Why can I not just shut up?_ Except that I'd not that not on impulse, but because I was actually thinking. And it might have worked if she was a human teacher planning to be at the school for longer than just that day, since I could have falsely accused her of sexual harassment and ruined her life or something, but she wasn't human. Her only intention was to pulverize Percy until she got the helm of darkness, and probably pulverize me, too. So Percy looked semi-hopeful, but Mrs. Dodds didn't even hesitate. She just kept walking until we got back to the Greek and Roman exhibits.

Just like in the books, she stopped us in front of this stone embellishment of the gods. She had her arms crossed, and she didn't look angry or triumphant anymore - just mean. Scary mean. She stared the two of us down for a minute, and then started making this strange, deep growling sound that was incredibly quiet, but was also the only sound in the room, since it was empty. It came from the back of her throat, and it was a dry, rumbling sound. That alone made me want to run for it, but Percy just looked confused. _Forget what I said. He_ is _hopeless._

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said finally. I knew she was addressing Percy, so I said nothing.

"Yes, ma'am," said Percy, probably just trying to avoid any more trouble.

"Did you really think you could get away with it?" she asked, pulling roughly on the shiny cuffs of her jacket and glaring him down. The look in her eyes was… terrifying. It held a promise. Promise to destroy. It showed hatred, and it glimmered with pure, unadulterated evil. I knew who she was - what she was - and I wondered what would happen if Hades didn't control the Furies. I'm sure I shrunk in on myself at the very thought. _Pure evil without a leash._

 _Well, I've already dug my grave,_ I reasoned. _Why not go ahead and put the nails in it?_ Adrenaline. Again. I was trying to think, to _think_ like I so desperately wanted, but I suddenly felt like nothing could go worse anyways, and sense of bizarre acceptance washed over me. _I'm probably going to die._ I didn't like it, but that didn't stop me from jawing off. "Percy didn't do anything," I protested, scrounging for time. "You must have seen -"

"Silence, child," she snarled, fixing that evil gaze on me. My heart beat rapidly, but I didn't back off or allow myself to look away. "I was not expecting you, but you will suffer with him if he does not confess." I don't know about you, but the idea of suffering repelled me, and Percy didn't even know about the stupid bolt yet. Unless Brunner _finally_ got here, we were both doomed. "We are not fools, Percy Jackson. It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

A delirious part of me wondered if I was included under the 'you'.

I glanced over at Percy, and then at the exit. Percy looked totally bewildered and stared at me, as if to say, _What's going on?_ I glanced again at the exit and then mouthed, _Go._

But Percy's fatal flaw was that he'd sell his own soul to save a friend - or even just an acquaintance, apparently. He frowned at me and stayed put. It was possible that he didn't even see anything _really_ wrong with this situation. It probably wouldn't have gone well if he'd run, anyways, but what kind of person would I have been if I said nothing?

"Well?" squawked Mrs. Dodds.

The meager difference I managed to make was that Mr. Brunner showed up at _this_ point in the conversation. He was going at wheelchair-racing speed, and he was holding a pen. Why didn't Percy think that was more outrageous in the books? A _pen_? A _pen_ versus a freaking monster, and he just casually grabs it out of the air? "What ho, Percy!" he called as I turned to witness Mrs. Dodds halfway through a horrifying transformation. Her eyes glowed, and her fingers were an inch longer than normal and growing, their tips pointed, yellowing, until they resembled the deadly talons of a hawk. The sleeves of her leather jacket were melting into the shoulders and the expanding into waxen, batlike wings, and her mouth was full of yellowing curved teeth.

I kicked Percy aside with all of the strength of somebody who had _not_ dropped out of karate class a few months in (and who knows? Maybe this me hadn't) and used his stomach as a launch pad to move _myself_ out of the way. Percy groaned, but I noticed that he'd still managed to grab Riptide out of the air. Alecto, being an intelligent creature, went for the unarmed person.

Who just so happened to be me.

I rolled out of the way and bounced to my feet, almost instinctively going into a fighting stance. Not that it'd do me any good against a beast like that. _Probably the best the to do is to stick with Percy._ I kept up my arms, if only to guard my face and throat, and began to back towards him before she began to fly at me again. _Why is she even bothering?_ Her body was lower to the ground, so I couldn't exactly roll, and her wings effectively blocked me from side-stepping without encountering at least _something._ If I stayed where I was, blocking my face wouldn't do me any good; those deathly talons would rip out every organ in my middle. So I did the smart thing and ran directly at her.

Then I jumped.

My eyes were shut. If she killed me, as she was likely to, I didn't want to see her do it. Besides, I thought that if I saw her, I might react with fear and ruin my momentum, then land too close or even on top of her. Neither sounded good. But that didn't happen. My feet landed firmly on the ground, though, and my eyes snapped open. _Thank God. Th-Thank the gods._

I heard a screech, the ugliest sound of the day: " _Die, honey!_ "

I am ashamed to say that I passed out where I stood.

* * *

Most people who faint regain consciousness within one to two minutes of passing out, or even less. I was just aware enough to know that probably only thirty seconds had passed. But when I was revived, I wasn't on the floor with my face pressed terribly close to the ground. Mrs. Dodds wasn't there. The room smelled a little strange, like someone had just cleaned up some rotten eggs. But the really important thing was that I was standing up in front of the frieze. I just snapped open my eyes and there I was. I felt something that must have been vertigo, like I tripped over an invisible shoelace, but I caught myself. In a few short breaths I seemed to have recovered.

"Mary?" I heard someone ask softly. It was _Percy._ And he was calling me Mary, too. I scowled and turned to where he was standing in the center of the room. The poor kid looked totally baffled, and he was holding a ballpoint pen like it was a lifeline. Something like a semi or a jumbo jet ran over me mentally, and I struggled to control myself. Mrs. Dodds had just happened. The Fury Alecto. She'd attacked Percy and she'd attacked me, too. Somehow I was feeling less and less certain that I was a mortal, or at least a normal one.

"That isn't my name," I muttered, turning back to the frieze. The feeling that some beastly creature might be lurking by Percy's side at any time haunted me. By hanging around him, I was putting myself in direct danger, even if I was a demigod myself. He was too powerful and his scent was too strong. The risk suddenly seemed a lot greater to me, and I was feeling more and more like I should move somewhere quiet and let things go the way they did according to the books.

"I'm sorry. It's Amara, isn't it?" Percy asked, coming closer and closer to me, like he didn't get that I wanted him to leave me alone. I tried to disregard him, but he was persistent. He'd tried to talk to be before and I had turned him away, but he hadn't ever pressed me like this. "Do you remember how we got here?"

"We came here with Mrs. Kerr," I replied without hesitating. "Because we pushed Nancy into the fountain? Do _you_ remember?" _Wow_. _Whatever brief kinship caused by that's apparently gone now._ Percy gave me a blank, disbelieving look. "She left us in here until we could calm down," I continued, "since she saw that Nancy was being a jerk to Grover. Gave us a warning."

"Are you su -" Percy began, but I gave him the same discouraging frown I'd always given him before when he said hello or waved at me. I definitely needed time to mull over things now. "Are you sure? Who's Mrs. Kerr?" he finished anyways, and I rolled my eyes.

"Percy, are you alright?" I asked ingenuinely. "Maybe you should see if you can rest in the bus or something."

"Amara, that isn't -"

I huffed and left him behind in the Greek and Roman gallery, the flat heels of my Mary Janes clicking against the floor. I was being rude. Really rude. He probably wasn't hurt personally, but I was probably confusing him even further than he'd been in the books, especially since I'd _seen_ Monster Dodds. I'd sort of _fought_ her, for Chrissakes. And, by some miracle, I was still alive. Did I want to face crazy shit like that on a regular basis? Obviously not. The only real question was whether I was willing, and whether it was worth it.

I managed to slip out of the museum and into the group of other students unnoticed. Even Nancy didn't pay me any attention, which was surprising considering that I'd gotten in trouble for something I'd done to her. Generally, I would have expected her to brag.

 _Wait. I got in trouble because of her!_ Not entirely true, but I was pissed and terrified. Not the best combo. I looked at Nancy with her flaming hair and orange freckles and forty-five dollars of some poor tourist's cash and I hated her more than ever. In the words of Nevel Papperman, I swore… she'd rue this day. She'd _rue_ it.

And I knew it would have to be a whole lot nastier than what I'd originally planned now.

* * *

I worked on my books of the plot some more when I got back to Yancy. It wasn't foolproof, but the notebooks were hidden neatly beneath my mattress, even the empty ones. I pulled out the only one I hadn't used so far when Nancy and the others weren't in the room and holed up underneath my blankets with a pen. The only progress I'd made since finishing up the central point of The Last Olympian was drawing in the ugly Mrs. Dodds on the page after the original illustration. Since I had plenty of space, I had reached the decision to do medium-sized illustrations (or a little smaller,depending on how important the event was to me) that went diagonally across the page from left to right. It wasn't exactly efficient in terms of conserving space, but it left some space open in case I needed to take notes once I figured out how to write again.

And I _would._

I scribbled lazily in the corner, since my cheap blue pen refused to write, and then started drawing a cat playing with a ball of yarn near the center of the page. It was supposed to represent Percy's run-in with the Fates at the bus stop, obviously, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like I'd overlooked a real metaphor. It wasn't just about disguising the ball of yarn as an innocent doodle; it was about the Fates toying with lives all that they willed. Lives like Luke's and Percy's. And apparently, lives like _mine._

Taking away my ability to read, first of all. Taking away my beautiful, kind mom who I'd belittled and misunderstood, and my father, who tried so hard to raise me right and was my role model, even if we did argue a lot. Making me leave my sweet little brother with his blue eyes and his happy voice, his chubby little toddler arms reaching out to embrace me as we both anticipated the time we'd spend together. We'd watch a shark movie, or read a book about Blackbeard the pirate, or play outside with the dogs. The dogs. Who'd take care of them now? My siblings didn't care enough, except for Josiah, and he was too little. It would probably be left to my parents just like everything else was. Would any of them miss me?

Or what if they hadn't even noticed I was gone?

I knew that they would notice if I'd disappeared body and spirit, but who knows? Maybe I'd just switched bodies with this twelve-year-old brat with dyslexia and God-knows-what else, who might be a demigod because apparently Furies are attracted to her. If that was the case, was I stuck here? And if I ever got back, what would be different? What if my dad thought I was stupid because some twelve-year-old made themselves at home in my body? What if my mom thought I was immature?And what if the other me didn't love my sweet brother enough, or have the guts to knock some sense into my siblings?

My pen fell onto the notepad as I rubbed my eyes, which were watering like crazy.

I'd left behind all the people and things that I underappreciated, the things that made me happy, to be attacked by freaks like Mrs. Dodds. More tears rolled down my face until I progressed from silent crying to quiet sobbing,my chest squeezing with every sharp inhalation I could this happen to me? Why? I didn't want to be here, trapped in a world where I'd die if I happened to have the wrong blood rushing through my veins, and suffer even if I didn't. I had always been a Christian and believed in God, even if those beliefs obviously didn't matter anymore. This wasn't karma. This was just the Fates, pushing me around because they'd wanted to adjust their master plan.

The bad temper I'd always had and the impulsive behaviors I suspected were stemming from ADHD combined. The Fates must have brought me there to do something, so I decided I'd better not disappoint them. _The Fates wanna screw with me? Fine. Let's tango, bitches._

* * *

I didn't want to do anything too drastic at first, and decided that I'd go ahead and finish drawing the plot of the story. Now that I was determined, my drawings were more rushed. They were sloppy, but identifiable, so I knew they would do the trick when I really needed first I did them in order, but then I decided to do the last books first, since I'd probabky forget most of the details when the time came and overall, they were more important, anyways.

I probably should have placed more priority on figuring out whether or not I was a demigod, because that would entirely affect the rest of my probably short life, but I didn't. I guess the fear was that if I figured it out, there'd me monsters coming at me from left and right, and that would draw them to Percy, too. Besides that, I wasn't really plotting yet. You could say I was a little… _busy_.

" _ **Adderall**_

 _GENERIC NAME(S): DEXTROAMPHETAMINE SULF-SACCHARATE/AMPHETAMINE SULF-ASPARTATE_

 _ **Uses"**_

I was researching.

The first time I search the contents of the little pills I had to take by mouth twice a day, I wasn't surprised. I clicked into the WebMD page, read the 'Uses' header, and then stopped immediately because I didn't have to read anymore. I could see 'ADHD' in parentheses in the second line, typed clearly and emotionlessly by some heartless doctor or website designer hundreds of miles away. I stared at the screen for a few seconds, surprised that I wasn't panicking, and then shrugged. It wasn't as big a deal to be as my dyslexia. which was, by definition:

" _A learning disorder characterized by difficulty reading._ "

Apparently, there was no cure for dyslexia,which meant that I was stuck with it forever. But I'd know people who were dyslexic before, and they lead relatively normal lives. Obviously they must have done a little reading or they'd have been in the doghouse instead of a comfy apartment with a good job as a veterinarian. In other words, it was incurable, but probably had varying levels of severity and was treatable anyhow. I was feeling better about myself, but then I looked up some treatments. The first few involved seeing a doctor or a shrink, which was, for me, a no-no. But there was one that came up a lot - so often that I really began to feel disturbed.

 _Individualized learning programs._

In other words, classes at my own pace or special tutoring. Which I wasn't getting.

I was pretty sure that my guardians were paying good money to stick me into this so-called 'school for troubled children', so why wasn't I getting the special attention I needed? Not that I wanted to be treated like a princess or something, but… damn. That didn't make any sense at all. Of course, I couldn't exactly run by the guidance office and ask for tutoring, because then I'd probably get that shrink I mentioned. _Nope nope nope. Not an option._

I wondered if I could somehow reteach myself some reading. I mean, I had the basis of it - I was just really, really slow, because all letters in the Latin alphabet look exactly the friggin' same. _How did I not realize how stupid the English alphabet is before?_ I thought. ' _C' is totally useless - we already have 's' and 'k', and it steals their jobs all the time. And what about 'j' and 'g'? Oh, and how sometimes 'y' makes the 'e' sound, and 'e' does whatever it wants! Plus, half the letters look way too similar to each other! How was I doing this before?_

On the first 'lesson' I gave up four minutes in and left a large-print abridged copy of The Hobbit laying pages down on the floor of the library. Yes, pages down. Ruining the spine. I had become one of those people.

I briefly considered inviting Percy to study with me but dismissed the idea almost immediately. Again, I didn't want to change things too fast.

I still excelled in Latin, and it broke my heart to get back all of my English papers, which usually had low Cs on them. Even that was only because of the ridiculous amount of effort I put into that class. In every other class, I had lower Cs and even a few Ds. I might have even had an F - my first ever. Again, I sort of felt like barfing, but I reminded myself that grades must have been a lot less important to this me and her version of dad, since he hadn't come charging in with a bullhorn and yelling reminders of all the perfect grades he'd gotten when _he_ was in grade school.

I basically ignored Percy most of the time, but one incident really brought to attention how close we were getting to the next important important phase of the plot. It shook me, since I really hadn't been doing any planning.

We were in English and Mr. Nicholl was passing out our last spelling test. I literally had my fingers crossed and I was praying, although at that point I'm not sure who I was praying to. Underneath my desk I had my fingers crossed for luck, and he kept walking past me and handing tests to other people, like some kind of tease. Sometimes he'd comment on somebody's test, if he found something worth mentioning, and that made it take even longer. Then, suddenly, he was in front of my desk and I swear the small, red C+ on my paper was illuminated. I was both proud and embarrassed that I was proud, and I must've looked too happy the Mr. Nicholl felt like he couldn't pass me by. He made the face that people make right before they shake their heads and roll their eyes and then he said, "Keep improving."

That's it. _Keep improving._

 _I will. Without your shitty help._

Percy, on the other hand, had a different mindset. Mr. Nicholl had one more paper in his hand. He looked at it and sighed dramatically.I frowned deeply. I could see the grade through the paper, and this was so bad I thought that it must have been set up. Our teacher walked down the aisle and set the paper on Percy's desk. While the poor kid stared at his terrible score (it was an F- if I ever saw one), Mr. Nicholl asked, "Mr. Jackson, will you _never_ bring yourself to study for my tests?"

It was pretty much completely snapped. "Leave me alone, you old sot!" he shouted, with all the volume that his adolescent lungs could muster.

I was pretty sure that very few people knew that he was basically calling the guy a drunken idiot, but the room went quiet anyways. You could have heard a pin drop.

Percy went out into the hallway without even being asked, then the teacher made a phone call and class continued like he'd never existed.

* * *

 _I think it's already been established, but as far as schools that specialize in children with issues, Yancy sucks._

 _Here's the deal: I'm planning on updating once every two-three weeks. As in 'weeks'. So on every second or third Saturday. But I have six chapters prewritten right now, and plan on having chapters written ahead for as long as I can. So I think that for every two reviews I get, I'll post the chapter a day early._

 _Next chapter set for 04/30/16._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

After that happened, I knew I had to have some kind of plan. And it needed to start with some kind of indirect apology. I definitely wasn't going to come out and say 'sorry for ignoring you all school year'. My pride wouldn't allow for it, and I wasn't sorry besides. I'd done it for a reason, even if it was one I could never allow him to understand.

So there I stood, like some kind of creepy stalker, hiding in the shadows by the stairway into the boy's dorm and waiting for Percy to show up. The air around me seemed to vibrate with energy, like it was just as excited as I was. I felt a nervous itch between my shoulderblades, but ignored it, focusing instead on the complete silence in the hallway. I couldn't even hear my own fingers trembled and my eyebrow twitched. Any minute now.

I wasn't sure if this particular event would have a real effect on much of anything, but it seemed like a nice introduction to my life as a walking disaster. It would be like some kind of reintroduction or something. And the best part was that I was going into this totally blind, and there would be no monsters involved, which basically meant that it was a safe interaction with Percy that would help me get a better feel for his character without using my knowledge from the books. I was pretty eager. I wasn't happy to be here - _period_ \- but the PJO fangirl that had been living inside of me since fourth grade wouldn't allow me to pass up a chance like this.

I heard some slow, quiet footsteps coming up the stairs. _People walking up the stairs are quieter than people walking down them,_ I mused, _because most balance on the balls of their feet when walking at an incline but their heels with declines._ I held uber still,clutching my own book to my chest in the hopes that it would block out the sound of my heart trying to escape my ribcage. But when Percy reached the bottom of the stairs, he didn't seem to notice me at all. _Good. It would be weird if he noticed me over here, since the girl's stairway isn't even in this hall._ I waited until he was a ways down the corridor and then darted down a different hall and then to the right.

Oddly enough, Percy didn't notice me until I was almost ten feet away and growing frustrated. "Who's there?" he hissed, sounding a little caught off guard at bumping into someone this time of night.

"It's Amara," I answered calmly, although I could feel anxiety bubbling in the pit of my stomach.

Percy stopped walking to wait for me. His face didn't show any sign of hostility; he actually looked surprised that I was talking to him again.I cringed. "So why are you here?" the brunette whispered, glancing over at my face. I realized he was pretty carefully examining me, probably to make sure that I didn't go off on him like I had the last time he tried to talk to me about Mrs. Dodds.

"I'm on my way to Brunner's. I -" My face flushed, which was pretty well timed, even though it had nothing to with my was actually a blush a irritation at what I was about to say - a total lie that downgraded my skill at my best subject. I grasped for the tiniest book detail I could remember and swallowed. "I need an easy way to remember the difference between Polydictes and Polydeuces."

There was a long pause. " _You're_ going to Mr. Brunner's for help? In _Latin_?" Percy asked, sounding disbelieving.

"Don't tell anybody!" I snapped, my voice holding genuine threat.

"I'm going there too," Percy said dismally.

"Having trouble with the conjugations? They're kind of hard. Oh - or how the meaning of some things change in context?"

"That too," he replied,sounding terribly depressed.

I paused, glancing over at him with a thoughtful look touching my countenance. "I'm sure Brunner's got plenty of tricks up his wants you to do well."

"Yeah," Percy replied. He sounded disappointed in himself, like he knew he was going to fail, when it hit me. _Bobofit._ I stashed the idea for later and Percy spoke up, breaking the short silence that had settled between us. "I thought you were mad at me - after what happened at the museum." I grinned to myself. It was subtle, careful prodding. He was still attempting to make sense of that when he'd sort of given up by now in the books. Of course, I had to give Percy some credit: he wasn't entirely stupid. He remembered what had happened, he remembered me being there when it happened, and he'd noticed that our brief period of camaraderie had ended right after it happened. He'd been able to connect the dots from there.

"No," I answered with a shake of my head. _Go on._

"Well, I shouldn't have been so pushy about it after we landed ourselves in so much trouble." Percy paused, and I could tell he was about to say something bold. "I think we were lucky to get off with a warning."

 _Clever._ I was grinning, but I sighed deeply, pausing for a good five seconds before saying, "Percy, there's something I - oh." _Perfect timing._ "We're here." I could see Percy's mouth open, like he wanted the say something, but I picked up my pace a little until I was close to the door.\

"... generally we wouldn't act now, but I'm worried about Percy, sir," said Grover Underwood. Before, I could hear Percy's quiet footsteps behind me, but they'd stopped, and his breathing had seemingly stopped. "I just don't think he should be alone this summer," Grover continued as Percy inched closer. "I mean, a Kindly One in the _school_! Now that we know for sure, and _they_ know too -"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Brunner pointed out. "If he knew, it would be dangerous not only for himself but for the girl, too. We need to the boy to mature more."

 _For the girl too?_ My breath caught in my throat. That definitely hadn't been in the books, and since I was the only new character, they were talking about me. No matter how much evidence I had mounting against me, I didn't want to be a half-blood, but it was seeming more and more like that was the case.

"But he may not have time." Grover paused. I could imagine him nervously scratching his throat as he imagined some horrible trial ahead. "The summer solstice deadline -"

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him ignore his ignorance while he still can." Mr. Brunner was incredibly firm. It was obvious he had no idea that he was ruining that ignorance himself.

"Sir, he saw her, and so did Amara…"

"His imagination. The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that," our teacher answered. "It has been effective enough for Amara." It was so weird to hear him say my first name instead of _Miss Easterling_ , but that wasn't what had my stomach tying itself in a knot.

"Sir, I… I can't fail my duties again. You know what that would mean," Grover said, his voice shaking with raw emotions as he made a final attempt to persuade the disguised centaur.

"You haven't failed, Grover. I should have seen her for what she was," Brunner comforted. "Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive next…" I tightened my grip on my mythology book before Percy dropped his. It thudded to the ground and the voices inside the office stopped right away. I looked at Percy, who was already picking up his book, with wide eyes, and he gestured towards a door. I had a bad feeling that the Mist would work a little better this time if I got caught.

We slipped into a teacher's unoccupied classroom, our very breaths quiet and still. We kept our wide eyes on eachother, like we were having some kind of mental conversation, but no words were exchanged between us, even as Chiron's hooves clicked across the flooring and his dark silhouette fell against the glass of the door. It was gone soon enough, but I still felt sickly nervous.

"Nothing," I heard him say. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither, but I could have sworn…"

"Go back to the dorm," the teacher instructed. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me."

And just like that, the only light in the hallway flicked off, and Percy and I was sitting in the dark together, musing on what we'd just heard. Once again, I was unnerved that I even warranted mention. What did it mean? I knew the answer, but I didn't have to accept it. Besides, some part of me still thought that there might be another reason all of this was happening. That there might be a reason Chiron, trainer of heroes, and a freaking satyr were talking about me. Or some other, more realistic reason that Mrs. Dodds had attacked me in the museum. I wanted an answer that didn't involve my ADHD or dyslexia or the possibility that, in this world, my family wasn't really my family.

It was deathly quiet in the little room for two good reasons, the first one being that we didn't want to get caught, and the second revolving around what both of us had just heard. I myself wasn't shocked, just upset; Percy, on the other hand, was a very different story. He seemed to be trembling a little, be it with adrenaline or excitement or fear, I don't know. He inhaled sharply, causing me to look up at him, and then said, "It was real."

I didn't have to ask what 'it' was, but I also didn't reply.

"Is that what you were going to tell me?" he asked, voice hushed.

The darkness seemed to wrap around me like a sheet, cool but comforting. My hazel eyes sparkled with determination and I felt a lump leave my throat. I hadn't even known it was there in the first place. "I remembered Mrs. Dodds," I answered, "but I didn't want to." Why _would_ I want to remember Alecto trying the tear out my soft insides with her clawed, filthy talons, leaving me to rot in the Fields of Asphodel or worse?

Percy must have been mad at me, at least a little. After all, it wasn't like I'd treated him all that nicely, especially since it was technically my fault I would up in that mess in the first place. It was pretty obvious that the relief was winning out, though, because when he spoke up again, he didn't sound angry at all. "What's a Kindly One?"

I shrugged. It was a lie, but once again, I didn't want to seem like I knew everything right off the bat. "I don't know, really," I answered. "I'll look it up, though. It sounds like some kind of euphemism."

"A what?"

"It's when you replace a word or phrase with a different one to make it sound nicer," I replied.

Percy stood up after another short period of silence and peeked out the window and into the hallway. There was nobody out there, but he looked uncertain. I wondered what he must have been thinking. After all, Brunner hadn't left his office. Maybe Percy had worried he was sleeping in there and we'd wake him when we walked past. Not that it mattered since the guy didn't know we;d been sneaking around before. Finally, Percy was done staring, and he crept out of the room. I followed him, keeping a close eye on Mr. Brunner's door in case it swung open.

Luckily, the two of us made it out of the office hallway without getting caught by anybody (not that anybody else was there anyways). After that we allowed ourselves to take it easier, not bothering with walking on tiptoe as our heels slapped loudly on the tile. "Why do you think they were talking about us?" I wondered out loud, though I doubted Percy would have an answer.

"Maybe there are more things out there like Mrs. Dodds," he replied after a moment's thought.

"Why are they after you, though?" I mused, smiling a little.

"Or you."

"No, Mrs. Dodds was going to leave me alone," I corrected. "I got myself in trouble, remember?" _Right?_

"I just - I'm just a normal kid," Percy muttered, shaking his black-haired head in confusion and he pondered any possible reason something like that could have happened. I stared sadly at him. _Normal kid, huh?_

"I'm afraid you're doomed to a lot of excitement, Percy Jackson," I said out loud, my twelve-year-old voice sounding aged by sadness.

"Huh?" he asked, looking a little alarmed. "What do you mean?"

"Just think about it, Percy," I answered as we reached the boy's dorms, "I'll see you. And by the way, Polydictes was an evil King. Polydeuces is another name for the Greek hero Pollux."

"Amara -"

"Good luck with the exams tomorrow."

I waved to him, and then disappeared into the dark of the hallway.

* * *

Finals the next day were completely chaotic. By which I mean that I probably flunked my English exam. Not that I could help it; it took me half-an-hour just to read the first passage and it went downhill from there. I'd been so proud about that dumb spelling test, but the truth was that I'd already known how to spell those words for years, and my writing wasn't affected nearly as badly by the dyslexia as my reading was. I'd gotten too excited too fact. Such optimism wasn't normal of me, but I loved reading and writing so much that I'd been willing to overlook reality to comfort myself a little.

This frustrated me beyond words. I'd once been a sixteen-year-old aspiring writer with dozens of awards and even a couple of published short stories, Of course, that particular phase had started only in the last year. But I'd akways considered myself an avid reader, and that too had been taken from me. It seemed like no matter how much studying or practicing I did, but Fates decided I wasn't worthy of being able to take that piece of me back. Was I doomed to be miserable and terrible at reading and writing English for the rest of my life? If I was a demigod, probably so. I wondered if demigods got terrible headaches from reading for more than three minutes at a time, because god knows _I_ did. I'd spend the next hour feeling like my head was about to burst, or I'd held my breath too long.

But I kept pushing myself, and I'd sit down and stare at a solid page of large print text, squinting at it until I could finally understand the jumbled letters. Then I'd be knocked out the entire next night, even though I usually struggled to sleep unless it was during class.

Remember how I said my English final went downhill? Like, _way_ downhill? Or off a cliff, even.

Let's just say that I fell asleep halfway through, and when I got to Latin, my head was _killing_ me.;Not that I cared. At least I was good at Latin. Even if the instructions _were_ occasionally in English.

To be honest, I'd always wondered why Latin wasn't taught in schools from an early age. If you want to learn a foreign language, that's when you do it, after all. Latin may be a dead language to this day, but it makes an appearance in a lot of old, important literature, and church life, depending on your denomination. Latin is also behind the classification of animals and a lot of vocabulary you actually _need_ for college. Besides that, it would give kids a basis for _any_ romance language, which is what most people try to learn if they try for a foreign language at all.

Then again, since when did our government know how to think of the future? Roe v. Wade, No Child Left Behind, Common Core… the list goes on and on.

I slid into my seat and wondered vaguely how Chi - _er, Mr. Brunner_ would feel about Percy's newfound… _relationship_ with me. Friendship? No. Not really. I barely knew him and I was super picky about my friends. Besides, Percy was a good kid and I'd always been… less so. Still, I decided that I didn't have to act like I hated him in public anymore, even if I didn't seek out conversation with him. So when the kid walked into the room, I flashed him I smile and then went back to doing some last-minute studying on verb conjugations. I didn't look up to see whether he'd smiled back or not, but Percy's nice enough that he undoubtedly did. He was probably still pondering my line about his life of excitement, though.

I'm not going to say that the test was a breeze, because it wasn't. It was difficult - really difficult, and I was really glad that I'd studied (especially since I'd missed over three-quarters of the year. Needless to say, it had taken me many hours of studying to get caught up, especially since I was too prideful and nervous to ask Brunner for help). If there was anything to be said for Mr. Brunner's style, it was that he didn't take it easy on us. He had high expectations.

I struggled through any English instruction and pushed on to the Latin. There were a few sentences of translations, which were exceedingly difficult, and we had to identify a few Greek symbols. There were lists upon lists of matching, mainly regarding the names of gods, major and minor, and a lots of multiple choice about myths. Luckily, I'd committed many of them to memory years ago, even before I'd read the Percy Jackson books (and definitely before watching its crappy movie counterparts). Even if I did terribly on the translations, which I hadn't, I'd probably pass the test with a C. It almost made up for my epic failure in English, except that it didn't.

I was one of the last people to finish the final, and when I did, I only handed it in hesitantly, holding my breath and the paper settled in the basket. If there was one test that I _needed_ to do well on, it was that one.

I'd have to learn more Greek, too.

After I finally turned in my test, the class erupted into a cacophony of discussion. I heard some people saying how terribly they'd done, some bragging, and others flushing and saying nothing. I, on the other hand, knew I'd done well, or well for _me_ as of late, so I didn't get involved with all the talking. Instead, I pulled out the English book I'd been using to study, deciding that since this was my last final of the day, the state of my brain didn't really matter.

It took a little bit more nerve to do that in public than you'd expect, considering how long it took me to turn a page.

The bell rang, signaling that classes were over and that we were free to head to the dorms. I stood up, pushing my books gently into my bag, and ignored the needles that seemed to be sticking through my eyes and into my brain. I joined the flock of children headed to the open door and ignored their voices. I'd been up so late the night before that I was feeling exhausted now, though the feeling hadn't set in until well after sunrise. I'd probably sleep for the rest of the day.

"Miss Easterling."

That was the plan, but it wasn't set in stone. Apparently.

 _Damn Fates._

I backtracked into the room and turned around, then set my bookbag down on my foot. It was soo full of study materials that it was slipping off my shoulders, and I was worried that the straps would break if I carried it like I was supposed to for too long. As it was, the strain on the stitches was pretty visible.

Mr. Brunner rolled up in his wheelchair, looking kindly and holding up a neat little pamphlet with red basing and golden accents. I couldn't see what the white text on the front read, but he was probably holding it for a reason. No doubt I would see it eventually. "Yes, sir?" I responded politely, though, as with seemingly all social interactions, I felt rather insecure.

"You've done excellently in my classes this year," he told me, smiling in the same proud, friendly way one would expect such a figure to react. I smiled slightly, but it was only the gentle upturning of my lips, and he may not have noticed at all. "And Mr. Nicholl has alerted me that you are… striving to do better in English." _Well, there went that smile._ "You may not be aware, but here at Yancy, a student's grades are distributed to other schools and programs designed to help our students better themselves."

Was that even legal? _The parents probably have to sign some kind of agreement. I bet this helps Yancy get their name out._ I frowned. That meant that a bunch of my Cs and Ds were floating around in some college's databa - _Whoa, hold up there. Why is_ Mr. Brunner, _my_ Latin teacher, _talking to me about this? Isn't this my guidance counselor's job?_

If fear really does have a smell, I probably reeked of it.

"We recently received notice from an organization that is interested in hosting you over the summer," Brunner continued, not acknowledging my change of mood if he noticed it at all. "It's dedicated to ancient European history, and would, in a way, be a continuation of this class." He held out the brochure, which my numb hand somehow managed to grip. My worst fears were surely about to be confirmed.

Sure enough, I glanced at the top of the trifold brochure, where white, blocky font read **CAMP HALF-BLOOD** and underneath it had a picture of what must've been the Hermes cabin, for how normal it looked. I felt like blowing chunks right there, but instead I said, "This text is easier to read than usual." To me, my words had kind of an echo, like I wasn't really inside my body anymore, but Mr. Brunner just answered with some spiel o=about a recent discovery that some fonts were easier than others for dyslexics to read, and a lot of businesses were choosing them because they were neater and fit with the minimalistic style that was popular today. "Cool," I answered numbly, opening the books and pretending to read about the camp's policy of striving for self-sufficiency and independent spirit in campers. _Yeah, so we know what to do when attacked by some insane monster._ We. I'd seen it coming, but it still felt unbelievable.

 _I am a half-blood._

 _A half-blood._

 _I'll probably never hit thirty._

It was rough.

"I have a summer job," I blurted.

Mr. Brunner looked disappointed, but not exactly worried. Maybe that meant that my scent wasn't strong, and that I could get away with putting it off. I _just_ needed to _plan_ some more. That was all. A little time and I'd make my peace with this. Especially if I was just a child of… Demeter or something. Right?

Right?

"Keep the brochure in case you change your mind," he told me, wheeling back a little, as if to deny it. I nodded and placed it careful out of sight in my bookbag, which I again hefted onto my shoulder. "It's a good opportunity for you, Miss Easterling."

I nodded in agreement and hurried out of the room. As I shut the door, I thought I heard Brunner let out a stressed sigh.

 _Oh, so_ he's _stressed?_ I thought mockingly, scowling at the ground as I'd hurried on. He may as well have told me I had cancer. Of course, that analogy (cancer is to my body just as being a half-blood is to my life) only applied if I was a pack-a-day smoker or had a lump sticking out of my breasts or something. I'd known this already, but having it (unintentionally) revealed to be true was… upsetting. I'd expected to be sad or afraid, but really, I just felt exceptionally blank with just a touch of anger. _Well, there goes any hope that I'm just a mortal who can see through the Mist, or that Mrs. Dodds noticed me because of my transuniversal journey._

The thought of Mrs. Dodds sent a shiver down my spine, and I actually felt relieved. Some healthy fear was good. Still, with all that was to come… it wasn't a good time to be a demigod if there ever was one. I had been brought directly into a time of war as a creature that would have been hunted and annihilated by most things anyways. My life was at risk.

I could die before I even hit twenty… or sixteen, depending on how you looked at it.

I got into my dorm when the other girls were already there, chatting on Nancy's bed about how well the Latin test had gone. For once those twits couldn't make any stupid comments, since I was even better in that class than they were. I kept waiting for them to say something about English, though, and when they did, I'd deck them.

Unfortunately, they never said a word, so I curled up beneath my covers and only woke up a couple hours after the sun set, when it was too dark to do anything. _Figures._

* * *

 _Sorry the formatting was broken at first ;o;_

 _Next update scheduled for the 14th. Once again, two reviews mean I update a day early._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

I didn't say goodbye to anyone before leaving at the end of term. I mean, I did get a call to the main office in the late hours of the evening, where I was basically told to wait in the school gardens until my 'guardians' came to pick me up.

I'd noticed that from the first day - they kept saying 'guardians' instead of 'parents'. I knew there was a possibility that it was just a coincidence, but in all honesty, I didn't think coincidences happened in the PJO universe. If they did, then what was the point of the Fates? Besides that, in Rick Riordan's books, it seemed like every little detail had a part to play. Either way, one thing was for sure: what had happened to me was way too big to be a coincidence. And apparently, I didn't have my parents anymore.

I couldn't really bring myself to feel any grief. After all, it was clear to me now that I was in the foster system, probably with a family just rich enough not to care about me. Besides that, I doubt my parents would have been the same people here that they were in my own life. If my family was rich, my dad probably wasn't a minister. Either that or my mother wasn't a pharmacist here. Either way, something had to be different. And my little brother wouldn't even exist while I could see him. As for my other siblings… one could say they were sources of misery and still be called an honest person.

I had already mourned the loss of my real parents, and felt no need to mourn two sets of them when I'd never met this one anyways. Call me cold, but I think my mind was tuning out any feelings of the negative kind at this point. Besides… in this world I wasn't even related to one of those people. That was humiliating. I didn't even know if this me had grown up with both parents or just one. In fact, I didn't even know if my real parents had even met. Who knew if my siblings really existed? Or, in Elijah's case, if they _would_ ever exist. _Crap… I hadn't even considered that._

I'd been told to wait in the garden, but the truth was I was jogging. When I'd realized where I was, I had made it my mission to get in shape, at least until I made my choice regarding my involvement in the storyline. It turned out that wasn't much of a jump and that I was in decent shape. It had actually forced me to wonder whether or not this me really _hadn't_ dropped out of karate, or whether they'd simply continued their efforts to remain fit even after quitting. Either way, I wanted to give them a pat on the back, since I'd lacked the foresight to do so myself. I wondered how they were feeling if they were some back in my non-demigod whale body back on my home planet. Or universe. _Whatever. Maybe they'll have it in decent condition when I get back._

I had abandoned my school uniform for a pair of black, flowy pants, and a white t-shirt that hung loosely on my frame and couldn't be seen through (shocker, really). I'd found them in the bottom of my drawer along with a few other sets of casual clothing and a pair of lilac Converses. They weren't athletic, but they were definitely better than the Mary Janes, so I was wearing them, too. Their rubber soles slapped steadfastly against the sidewalk, and I could feel myself working up a sweat. Every time I'd gone jogging, I caught myself thinking that it would be better if I had music. It was something that I'd definitely have to invest in.

My bag was sitting hidden in some bushes by the front lot. It wasn't the most obscure hiding place, but I had things (read: notebooks) that I needed to protect. It could have been worse, anyways, for the dull green color and sienna tracing seemed to blend in at a distance. I doubted even kleptos like Nancy would be digging around in the bushes looking for things to nick, anyways.

One of the things I'd wondered since the night after my Latin final was whether my scent had gotten stronger since I'd realized with complete assurance what I was. If that was the case, it would be wise for me to head to Camp Half-Blood as soon as possible, if only to get a weapon of some kind and train at least for a brief period. I hadn't decided whether I planned to stay there. I'd decided… so little.

But I felt like I could have a greater impact on the plot from the outside.

There was only so much I could to in camp. I probably wouldn't even be in a position of power, since only the head counselors had any say in anything. If I was out of camp, I'd probably have the opportunity to garner more genuine experience and make more connections than just Mr. D and Chiron. It would be dangerous, but my life was going to be dangerous from here on out anyways.

I felt like the more I thought about these things, the more danger I'd be in. But I knew that the instant I arrived at camp, I'd be stuck in the Hermes cabin, and I'd have no privacy or peace whatsoever. In spite of the danger, the conditions here were probably better. Still, I didn't want to die, which was making it sort of hard to focus.

 _I hate summer camps,_ I thought dismally, and my heart practically stopped when I heard a car door open.

"Ah, young Miss Easterling," said a rich, kind voice. I turned toward it, suprised when I saw not only a kindly-looking young man, but a kindly-looking young man standing in front of a limousine. My eyes widened and I stopped running, my heart thumping rapidly in my chest thanks to the intensity of the run. I wasn't sure who this guy was. Maybe it was my rich 'guardian's chauffeur or something. "There you are. I thought you were indoors for a moment there."

And here was the downside to my total lack of early memory. I didn't know who people were. I didn't know exactly how I was expected to behave. I didn't know if I'd ever had any demigod dreams and if I had them now, I didn't exactly remember them when I woke up in the morning. I didn't know what 'my' hobbies were, or who my friends were. I didn't even know where I lived. So right now, I had to choose between getting into a potential stranger's car or possibly looking really weird to a worker of my guardians'.

I sucked in a breath and dug my bag out of the bush, visibly cringing as I shook off the dirt and leaves that clung to its fabric surface. _Disgusting._ The chauffeur(?) chuckled as he let me into the limo, and I slid into the soft seat, breathing in the smell of warm leather and new car. It was extravagant inside, but I was still calming down from my run and had too much else to pay heed to anyways. Tearing up a little as I remembered my dad's old habit, I dug a penny from the bottom of my bag and tossed it onto the floor. _My dad._ How long would it be before I saw him again, if ever?

 _Now, planning._ I stared out the window, watching trees rush to the back of us as the moon hung like a glowing golden bulb in the sky. My main concern was staying alive as long as possible. I thought that the likelihood of someone knowing my name and where I would be waiting on _top_ of having the gall to pick me up in something as flashy as a limousine was pretty low. Besides that, even if it was dark out now, plenty of the lights at Yancy were still on and the sidewalks were still lit up with street lamps. The chance was too high that someone would notice that something was wrong.

Of course, if it was the kind of thing that the Mist would hide, I was screwed. But all seemed natural, so if I was about to be killed by some kind of a monster, then I guess I'd go down making plans.

First things first: when did I head to camp? Even if I didn't really anticipate heading there, being jammed into the Hermes cabin with a bunch of crazy theives (and _Luke_ ), or being restricted to any sort of schedule, no matter how loose, or sharing bathrooms, or doing chores - well, I needed to go anyway. I'd learn some pretty vital lessons there, like how to wield a weapon and how to act as a demigod in general. I'd pick up some ancient Greek there, and maybe even figure out who my other parent was.

 _Maybe._ What a bitter word.

All my life, I'd been part of a minority. I don't mean that I was Asian or especially beautiful or anything. I mean, I was smart, but since I was also not fond of schoolwork, that didn't set me apart either. No, I'd been apart of the minority in America that lived in a house with both of their parents. I'd grown up knowing dozens of kids whose parents were divorced, or who'd never known one or the other, or who was grieving because Mom or Dad had walked out on them. And I'd felt bad for those kids, but I still hadn't appreciated the fact that I was lucky enough to live in a house with my two birth parents, who were still married and loved each other in a way that I'd wanted to love someone else someday.

Even now, I was sure I didn't really understand what my friends felt like; my situation was just too different. But I felt this tiny nugget of remorse lodging itself in my heart that even if I did find out who my godly parent was, I'd never have any sort of relationship with them.

 _That doesn't matter,_ I reminded myself. _Planning._

 _So, Camp Half-Blood. When do I go?_ First things first: I was a demigod and I was presumably about to turn thirteen. Or was I already thirteen? My face went red in embarrassment, and it was a relief that I was alone. _Gods. I don't even know how old I am. Pathetic._

Still, if there was a question about it, I was going to assume thirteen.

 _Okay, so I'm thirteen going on fourteen, which means that I'd probably be having some serious trouble anytime now._ It wouldn't help that I'd been in the vicinity of Percy Jackson, son of the sea god. If it was possible for his scent to rub off on me, it probably had. Not only that, but it was an easy recall from the books that when a demigod knew what they were, monsters would be more attracted to them. I wasn't sure if that was because the scent intensified or what, but that wasn't the point. The point was that I was probably even right now. And if my mother or father was anyone particularly strong, it would probably be even worse. _I haven't showed any signs of powers yet. Will that help me out, or…?_

I knew that Percy would be attacked late that night or extremely early the next morning, and he didn't even really know who he was - he just knew something was up. It was around 8:40 PM even as I thought, and I wondered if it would be three or fours hours or even two hours from now when Percy and his mother would be brutally attacked. They'd be okay in the end, but I still felt a twinge of sympathy. Or at least I acknowledged that they didn't deserve it.

If Percy was going to be attacked, and this time it was also a targeted attack by Hades, that meant there was a possibility - more than a possibility - that my existence had also been brought to attention, and that I too could fall victim to an attack. Apparently, though, I didn't live in New York City, which meant that I wasn't as close to Camp Half-Blood, which was really my only shot at safety. So I could take a risk and hang out at whatever sweet setup I probably had tonight, or I could do something else.

Like… depart.

I gently nudged my bookbag with my foot until I could reach it without moving and unzipped the top, growling frustratedly as it stuck. I pulled it forward and then back again, easing it open and then picking up a bunch of my school books and placing them on the seat beside me. The inside of my bag was incredibly sloppy: loose papers scattered everywhere and crumbled from being pressed under the weight of my textbooks, a torn half of a folder. Pens and pencils were scattered across the fabric bottom, and when I first picked the bag up and stuck my hand up, I withdrew it with a scowl and a blue dot in the center of my palm. I looked inside and shifted piles of the paper. There, in the very bottom of the large packet, without a wrinkle or tear or stray pencil line. I grabbed it between two fingers, as if it was dirty, and then opened the trifold brochure to glance though the pages. It was a pretty terribly designed brochure, but half-bloods aren't exactly tech-friendly, so I shrugged it off. It was probably a rush job.

I found some of the lines subtly humorous, but couldn't bring myself to smile.

 _At Camp-Half Blood, campers form close knit friendships while their counselors encourage them to take charge of their own education._

 _Many campers are surprised at how often their skill with ancient languages is useful in their modern lives._

The list goes on.

But that wasn't the important stuff.

I flipped to the back section of the brochure, where contact information would usually be. Like the other stuff, even with the magical anti-dyslexia text, it took a while to make it out.

Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill, Farm Road 3.141  
Long Island, New York 11954

I blinked. That was a weird address. _3.141? Like π?_ There wasn't a phone number, either, which wasn't all too surprising. Still, it would have at least made it seem a little more realistic if they'd added a fake one. That said, it was probably true that the brochure had been printed for select students from private schools - maybe even just me. Besides, this was presented as a school camp. If someone denied the chance to go, they probably wouldn't be eager to contact the place unless they realized it was an emergency. _How would that work, anyways? Some monster or something in a dream calls them half-blood and they make the connection?_ They'd probably be dead by then anyways, but there was probably a minority that got themselves out of trouble.

I hadn't realized until that moment, but Grover must have had a lot of foresight to hand Percy his card. After all, he was planning on heading home with Percy and talking to his mom, wasn't he? So there really wasn't any need to do that. Or maybe the guy was just paranoid. If I was in his shoes I'd have been too.

I folded the brochure into a little, small square and pressed it into one of my pants pockets. That was another great thing about these pants: the pockets were huge. I could probably fit anything in them. _I need, like, six more pairs of these._

For sixteen years (and a half) my life had been boring. Unfortunately for me, those days were just about over and I knew it.

* * *

The car rolled to a stop a good while later in front of a hill overlooking town. It wasn't as large as I expected, but the architecture said that it was expensive. It seemed like every space was decorated with some kind of stature or tracery, some of which had a vibrant luster even in the dim moonlight. It was very windy and clouds were blocking the starry skies overhead. I trembled. The air was unexpectedly cool for this time of year. But maybe it was always like that in New England - I wouldn't know since I've never been, My t-shirt wasn't providing much by way of heat, and I wished I had one of the uniform sweaters that were packed neatly into a black case that the driver had tucked away somewhere. My body shook involuntarily.

There was only one car besides the limo in the parking lot (why pick me up in that anyways?), so I guessed that my so-called guardians were actually just one person. An aunt? Uncle? Elder cousin? I didn't know or care, because I would be leaving the house tonight anyways.

I allowed myself to be guided indoors, where it was far warmer. There was a blast of cold before the doors shut with a thud that echoed throughout the quiet house. I could hear a fire crackling softly and, rubbing the gooseflesh of my arms, felt eager to reach it.

"Miss Ami still hasn't returned from work, but she wanted to be sured you were aware that there are marshmallows in the pantry," I heard the driver announce quietly behind me as I pushed through the second set of doors and into what must have been the living room. I started. That sentence was somehow terrifying. _Ami._ But Ami could not be my mother because thus far, everyone had staunchly refused to say anything but 'guardian'. Ami. Ami. Was it some kind of cosmic joke? I frowned, tried to contain my anger, and moved on.

I would have never decorated a room that way: clean, minimalistic white with pale green furniture. The fireplace was in a white-painted brick wall that was in the center of the room, but didn't go across to either side. The wood inside it popped beneath the fire, and I decided that marshmallows were a very good idea, thanks. Whoever Ami was, at least she had good taste - even if the only way that she acknowledged my existence was by making it possible for me to have s'mores.

Oh well. If she wasn't here, that would make it all the easier to get away.

"You'll find your pajamas on the chair by the fireplace," the driver mentioned. _Pajamas?_

"Bedtime already?" I asked warily. No way would that work out. I still needed to… have a look around.

The guy chuckled. How old was he, anyways? Eighteen, fresh out of school? Nineteen? Something like that. His green eyes twinkled as he turned back to me, grinning at me and shaking his head. "Very funny of you, Amara. As usual, you're welcome to do whatever you want as long as you don't leave the house without me. Which reminds me - I put your house key in your bag when I carried it in." _Okay… so I'm not allowed to leave the house without my…_ driver, _but I get a house key and a debit card? What kind of nonsense is that?_

I was also beginning to suspect that this guy was probably a lot more than just my driver. A chaperone, maybe? A… caretaker? Nanny? Babysitter? Whichever way, it made me feel small and belittled, so I didn't like it one bit. It didn't need someone looking over my shoulder all the time. It would just make everything a whole lot harder. Luckily, I probably had a whole lot more energy than his, unless he'd been working with me to get used to my weird sleep schedule.

I hurried to the fireplace, where my skin warmed almost instantly as I watched the flames dance on the blackening surface of the wood. It smelled slightly of smoke, but it wasn't bad, so I sat down. I just felt like relaxing for a moment, not thinking or remembering or calculating or fighting, because I thought it would probably be a long time before I got to do that. I fingered the PJ pants, which were soft and fluffy and had pictures of sock monkeys all over them. The shirt was black and had a matching monkey on the front, and its fabric was cool and smooth. Shame I wouldn't really be wearing any of it. I couldn't, after all.

And, I decided, I'd have plenty of time for s'mores at Camp Half-Blood.

The size of the house was actually a good thing, because when I finally got up, it didn't take me long to find my room. It was on the third floor. Well, it _was_ the third floor - an indication that there weren't too many people living here. Probably just me, the caretaker, and whoever the hell Ami was. Ami who likely hadn't seen me in several months and couldn't manage to be home today. But also Ami who bought me marshmallows. _Or was it really the caretaker, trying to make my guardian look good?_ Toughie.

My bookbag had been carried up there, and I was irritated to note that my door had no lock. Why? Because I was special needs? _To hell with that,_ I thought, emptying the bag of my school supplies and rushing around the room, grabbing any desirable thing I could think of and shoving it into the bag. Obviously I didn't have any means of defending myself yet, but to my delight, I found an iPod and headphones, which I put safely in the front pocket where they wouldn't be crushed. I filled the rest of my bag with comfortable clothing that I thought would allow for mobility - most of it clothing like I was wearing now. I truly was beginning to wonder if I was still in some kind of dance class or martial art, but that wasn't all too important to me. So, instead of focusing on that, I shoved several sets of clothes into my bag, and on top of it, one of the few books I had in my room, since I planned on continuing my 'lessons'. Next, I picked up my three notebooks, which were with the school stuff I'd had to dump out, as it had apparently been packed back into my bag, and tucked them back inside along with a couple of pens. Last but not least, I dug around until I found a stack of birthday cards. It had always been my habit to save them, and luckily, this girl was the same way. Now, I not only had a debit card, but over one hundred eighty dollars cash saved from the past few years. I didn't bother searching through the rest, since what I had was more than enough to get to New York, and after that it would be simple enough to get more. Almost absently, I grabbed a hoodie from a hook on the wall. It would be story that evening, after all.

As I prepared to leave the room, I paused, turning a little at the door. This was a chance to learn about who this girl had been before I'd taken her body from her, or vice versa. Whether or not that truly mattered at all after I left remained to be seen, but I couldn't help but sweep over the room. I had been all about reading until about fifth grade, so I hadn't had any decorations or posters aside from stuffed animals and an amusing Garfield page from my _Cat Fancy_ magazine. Other than that, my room had been a total mess. This person had the mess but lacked the personal library with hundreds of choice novels and nonfiction books. Instead, the room's walls were plastered with drawings that seemed rudimentary beside the ones I was doing with the skill I had brought with me. I couldn't focus on them long; my eyes slid to the floor. The visible parts of the floor were the same laminate as the hallway, and the furniture was white. A television with a large screen sat on top of the dresser I'd just pulled my clothes from, facing a large, lush sofa. The room also featured a mini-fridge that was probably full of flat Doctor Pepper and water bottles, and there was a shelf about five feet off the floor and encircling the whole room, occupied by evenly spaced stuffed animals organized by size. The chimney wall rose through the center of the room, making it o-shaped.

Disturbingly, there were no photographs of any kind.

Back in my own room, I'd had photos of my brother, my other siblings, my whole family, and the exchange students I considered family, like Mikasa, who was practically my sister even to the point that she referred to me as her son's aunt. But all that was lost to me, and now, here, this girl didn't seem to care about what she was lacking at all.

What if I hadn't been raised by a parent or parents at all here? What if I'd been living with that cold, absent 'guardian' all my life, and that was why everyone seemed to think I was an impassive, passionless person from the beginning. Had that turned me into a person who relied upon crappy drawings and seas of stuffed animals to keep them afloat? Maybe that was why I was in a troubled kids school and had a chaperone.

I flicked the lights out and turned my back on the room, quietly closing the door as I crept down the stairs.

* * *

 _So. Because this was an admittedly boring (albeit necessary) chapter, I'll be posting the next one as soon as I finish writing chapter thirteen. (I've only got a few hundred words to go, so...) After chapter six is up, our two reviews = update one day early rule will revert back to normal._

 _By the way, there are some important things in this chapter that might not have seemed important. I hope you paid attention._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

I withdrew my cash as soon as I got to town. A lot of it. Call me unwise if you want, but I needed to do it as soon as possible so that I didn't get tracked to a specific area in New York, and I also didn't want to take more than one cab. So I stood at an ATM in the dark, shoving cash into bags and placing the bags underneath my clothes in my bookbag for around five minutes.

Really, it was a wonder that I hadn't been mugged before I hailed a taxi.

I was just glad that the driver wasn't chatty. To be honest, I didn't feel much like talking and I also wasn't sure I could give a decent explanation as to why I, a thirteen-year-old, was running amok at night and asking to be brought to a potentially dangerous urban area. Thank the gods for irresponsible adults.

The storm was awesome. Not awesome like 'cool' but awesome like 'incredibly powerful/awe inspiring'. It was the kind of thing that usually would have made me want to stand outside and watch for hours, but made me want to run away in this instance. This storm wasn't a freak of nature. It was intentional, a display of power, and a threat. It was a storm that signified upcoming war. It foreshadowed the storm that would be the years to come, full of chaos and betrayal and bloodshed. The storm marked the end of whatever peace had preceded it.

The cab came to a stop and my body shivered on its own accord and I zipped the chest of my pullover and picked up my bag. "Sure this is where you wanna be, kid?" grunted the driver, a man with greying black hair and a brutish face. I ignored him, and, having paid up-front, opened the door and slid out with my bag. I slammed the door behind me and, though I could see him peering out at the hill to me, he sped off as I turned my back and began to walk away, nearly splattering me with cold rainwater from dirty puddles on the road. I scowled in his direction as I slipped my hand out of my shirt but continued on into the darkness.

Obviously, I couldn't carry all that cash into the Hermes cabin - it would surely be stolen. I had planned to bury it by a tree or something on the way into camp, probably in the woods somewhere, but when I came up with that plan I'd somehow forgotten that it would be pouring today. I'd put it all in a couple of ziploc bags, but I still felt sort of bad about that much money sitting under the mud for a couple of weeks. Or touching the mud, for that matter. But I walked about thirty yards the trees by the property line and looked for anything I could use as a marker, like a tree that was a little out of the ordinary. There was no way I was gonna use Thalia's Tree, after all. The last thing I wanted to do was anger Zeus while he was already and evidently pissed without my help. So I picked a tree that had a lump that sort of reminded me of Hillary Clinton near the base and cringed as I scooped a few handfuls of squishy mud out of the way. The hole was filling with water even as I put the money inside, so I hurriedly filled it back in, stomping it down so there was no suspicious mound there. Then, since I thought it mike make me appear more authentic (and also because I couldn't stand the feeling it left on my hands) I wiped the mud all over my shirt and pants, and even a little on my bookbag. Then I rinsed my hands in the rain. My face was perfectly clean, but as far as they knew, the mud had washed all that off too.

I knew I didn't really _need_ to look dirty, but I also didn't want anyone to know I was semi rich. There's kind of a lot of generalizing and stereotyping around that, and besides I didn't want anyone stealing from me.

I stood there, feeling angsty and not even realizing I was doing it, before finally shaking myself from my thoughts and pushing hesitantly on into Camp Half-Blood. _No putting it off now._ I gripped the brochure in my flag as a sign of peace. After all, if anybody saw me and thought I wasn't peaceful, I was screwed. Like, _dead_ 'screwed'.

The rain was soaking through my hoodie, and I wished I had Percy's water-repelling power. I closed my eyes and breathed in, focusing. _Guess I'm not a child of Poseidon, then,_ I thought. Not that I had wanted to be one, anyways. That was definitely too much for me to even think about handling.

Sort of like the fact that I needed to _really_ work to improve my planning skills.

I'd been ignoring the crackling and booming of lightning for an hour, but suddenly there was a sound that seemed even harsher and more terrifying than the disturbing rumble of the storm and the intense patterning of painfully large raindrops. It was a screeching sound, like the sound you get when you scratch something metal, followed by a great, resounding explosion that I could see from where I stood only a few feet from the crest of the hill.

I knew what was going on.

And _I hadn't planned for it._

I was such and idiot! I knew that this was going to happen tonight, which was why I'd decided to leave before _I_ was attacked, but I hadn't thought about the fact that I would be walking right into a fight, or that I might arrive right before or right after it. I fell to the ground, not minding the mud as I stared wide-eyed at the earth as I held my head in my hands. _No. No._ I didn't want to get involved with the Minotaur. That wasn't a part of my apparently shitty, last-minute plan. Maybe if I had started considering that stuff earlier, it wouldn't have been a problem, but it was and there was no point crying over it. I told myself that, but I was angry, and I was _scared_ \- just like when I'd fought Mrs. Dodds.

When _Percy_ had fought Mrs. Dodds.

 _I'm such a coward. A fool. I'm so useless. What's even the point of me here? Why?_

But another part of me knew that was absolute nonsense. Maybe I was a fool and stupid, but I had already established that my presence here was not coincidental. Somebody had meant for it to happen even if I didn't exactly understand why. That meant I had a purpose, be it for good or for bad. And I wasn't going to play some shitty game orchestrated by my godly parents or the Fates or whoever had decided to ship my ass there. I was going to take their stupid plan, chew it up, and spit it back into their smug, prideful faces. They had ruined me and my life, so I'd screw with them as long as the demigod life would allow me to do so. _I'll dominate this playing field,_ I thought, _no matter what._ And I rose, dirty and soaked, leaving my bookbag where it sat on the ground. I could get it later.

 _I'm still stupid, just for walking into this._

But I was going to do it anyways. I stood at the top of the hill and watched. The rain was like a sheet, blocking me from seeing much of anything at all. I couldn't even _hear_ much of anything going on. I was, quite literally, running into this blind. My fiery temper, though, my heart, rebelled against my mind, and I stepped into the downpour. And then, through crystalline raindrops, I saw a couple of blurry shapes - Sally and Percy, who must have been carrying Grover between them. The Minotaur was close behind and I knew that too, but he must have been a ways off, since I couldn't see him.

I didn't have time to plan. Not even put together the same crappy type of 'plan' that had gotten me into this mess. So I began to run down the hill.

I could feel my feet mashing the slick surface of the ground and I knew I was splashing mud all over my clothes and possibly even my skin, but I was suddenly so full of energy and anger that I had a hard time even registering it. I felt the cold on my face, and that was all. I wasn't even sure if it was actually the mud. For all I knew, it was just rain, cold and stinging as it flew into my skin.

Of course, it wasn't the most brilliant idea, and for a moment, I felt myself falling forward. I leaned back and started sliding down on my heels, which was, despite the situation, _totally awesome_ , but that didn't last long. Predictably, I fell on my butt and slid from there, which was notably less fantastic since I started to roll. But I recovered quickly, catching myself and jumping up, rushing down further. I could see what was going on a lot more clearly now, and it would be doing the situation a terrible injustice to say that, it a less adrenaline-run state, I might have wet myself.

The first thing I saw wasn't Sally Jackson and her kid, but the thing in the distance. The rain had eased up, but I could make out surprising detail consider the light. The Minotaur was the buffest thing I'd ever seen, like one of those guys on steroids in health class videos - so muscular that I could almost make out the fiber of his flesh, and his veins seemed to pop out of his skin. His entire body was probably rock hard - getting run into by that guy would undoubtedly be about the same as being hit by a freight train or a semi. This was the same thing that would be running around carrying an axe four years from now. I felt myself starting to flood with fear, but shook my head. I needed control of myself.

My first priority was Percy.

The thing was that I knew he wouldn't leave his mom, no matter what. I'd have to knock him out and drag him away, and I wasn't sure if I could manage to do that if he realized what was going on and felt strengthened by the rainwater. He hadn't been working out like I had, but Percy wasn't exactly out of shape and was super powerful. But there was one thing slowing down Percy's potential success: Grover.

Mrs. Jackson was carrying Grover on her back, and Percy was hurrying to the top of the hill, glancing back every few steps. "Percy!" I said, hoping that I'd been loud enough that he could hear me but not the minotaur. Sure enough, he turned my direction, looking panicked and then surprised.

"Amara? What -"

"Did you come from the camp?" Mrs. Jackson gasped, looking desperate. I could see the Minotaur turning its huge, hairy head around in all directions, its beady eyes uselessly shooting around as he struggled to find us through the rain. My luck was terrible, though, and I knew how little time I had.

"Never got there, ma'am," I said, gesturing rapidly up at the top of the hill, as if to say, _Go there! Hurry._ As expected, Percy paid me no heed.

His green eyes glittered with fear as he and his mom trudged upwards. "Do you know what's going on? What do we -"

"Give me Grover," I muttered fearfully as I turned to look at the beast, which was almost fifty yards below but had finally homed in on Percy. "Hurry!"

I didn't have to ask twice. Mrs. Jackson gave me the satyr and I used all the strength I could muster to drag him up and out of the way. His body was limp and weak, but he was important. If I could just get Grover to wake up, we could all dash to the hill. Then Mrs. Jackson could get out of here before anything went wrong. I slapped him across the face, but his scruffy cheeks were cold and lifeless under my touch.

I heard Grover mutter something like "FFFFFMMM" but nothing else.

"- selfish, keeping you near me," I could hear Sally saying, but I stayed focused on Grover, a guy I'd paid so little attention to, but who was so important now. My breaths grew heavy, and I punched him in the gut. He had the kneejerk reaction of curling in on himself, but otherwise, nothing.

The situation was so stressful I didn't even have the time to muse upon his mega-hairy legs.

"Grover, wake up!" I hissed. "Percy needs you!"

"Food…" he whispered dreamily.

"Uh, y-yeah! Food, snacks! Wake up, man! You can't eat when you're dead, right?" I gave a nervous chuckle and looked up briefly to where Percy was dodging the beast, his entire body shifting as he removed himself from the path of the Greek equivalent to Bizarro Man. They must have been a breath away from each other. Percy was so close to death and if I wasn't careful, I'd fail.

 _What got him to wake up in the last book?_ "Um, pasta! Yeah, pasta! Fresh bread, er, burritos! Pizza! Ice cream!"

No reaction, but I could see the Minotaur turning to Mrs. Jackson, who had managed to get a quarter down the hill. _No._

"Quesadillas? En - Yeah! Enchiladas!"

Considering that Grover had actually been knocked out by actual injury and not attacked by a sleep god, it was surprising and sort of impressive that the thought of a food literally brought him back from the dead. I'd had dreams about eating Cheerios every night at one point, but I doubted it would ever go that far, no matter how hungry I was. But I needed to focus. Whatever worked was just - "MOM!"

 _Fine._

Obviously I'd spoken too soon.

"When did you get here?" Grover asked, as it was no mystery to him _why_ I was there, and I opened my mouth to answer before stopping and looking up, my face in a panic. Grover had an instant understanding of what was happening and rose quickly, his body swaying as he tried to recover. He was swearing like crazy. Every awful this he could think to say was pouring endlessly from unclean lips in fluent Ancient Greek. I didn't usually swear - not out loud anyways - so it startled me at first.

 _Don't look at Percy. Don't don't don't -_ "We have to help him! Mrs. Jackson just -"

"Amara, run to that farmhouse over the hill," Grover told me, looking panicked and all-around worried. "Get help!" He was looking behind me at what I was facing away from, and I wondered what exactly was going on. "Hurry up! It's -"

Oh. _Didn't the monster hurry over to Grover after taking Mrs. Jackson?_ I wondered if it would be cowardly to leave and do what Grover was telling me. Would it be like running away? I _wanted_ to run away. But before too much time passed, Grover shoved me up the hill, not allowing me to think, and moved to Percy, fast. "Hurry," he shouted

I was being selfish to just stand in place while Grover and Percy were facing immediate death at the hands of a bull-man, but I was suddenly frozen in fear. If the satyr hadn't shoved me, I would be dead. The Minotaur was standing where the two of us had just been, and he was sniffing around, his head turning to where I sat a few feet away, the seat of my pants soaking in the watery surface of the mud. I felt paralyzed, and I felt a rush of familiar frenzied dismay - the same thing I'd felt just after jumping Mrs. Dodds, before I'd passed out and Percy skewered her. If that happened now, I was as good as dead. After all, the Minotaur was supposed to catch people Percy was close to, and that was Grover, not me.

I could see the satyr in the background and vaguely recognized his frantic attempts to distract the creature from me, but it was no use. Percy seemed to be temporarily in shock, and he did nothing, though I wouldn't have expected him to snap out of it for my sake, anyways. What had I done for him, after all? Nothing. I slid back, hating the feeling of the slop on my thighs and backside, standing slowly and quietly as the creature prepared to charge. I couldn't just _sidestep._ That was what got Mrs. Jackson strangled and transported to the Underworld. And in my case, I doubted there'd be anything but strangling. This thing might have been stupid, but it was a fast learner, and it had figured out the simple trick Percy had used against it. So I thought fast, just like I had in the situation with Mrs. Dodds, and this time, I would _not_ be out cold in the end. Pasiphae's son, with all his weight, might, and speed, ran at me from only a few feet away.

I did the smart thing.

I rolled to the side, my body compacting into the tightest, smallest ball I could manage as my head hit the ground, my neck bending a little as I curled, then jumped neatly to my feet two yards away. I did it all with practiced ease even though I _hadn't_ practiced in years - as far as I knew. _She definitely wasn't a karate dropout, huh?_ I thought. Maybe that was what she replaced reading with - a good fight.

I felt my fists raising to my face, like I could defend myself, but I forced my brain to override my instincts and ran as fast as I could to the top of the hill. Tripping would be fatal, so somehow, I managed to stay up in spite of the several times I felt my feet shifting in the mess beneath me. Yelling, I knew, would probably not have desirable results either; even f the Minotaur was mostly deaf, he'd still hear at this distance. But, since I was mere feet from safety for myself, I went ahead and did it anyways. "JUST HOLD ON, GUYS!" I said, glancing to where Percy looked like he was about to explode with rage and the Minotaur was running toward me, both pissed that I'd fooled it and probably wanting to prevent me from reaching the camp boundaries. I turned back. _Don't think about that. Don't._ "I'LL BRING HELP, I PROMISE!"

I could hear that things footsteps behind me, but I managed to lunge over the hill, rolling until I landed painfully on my shoulder and let out an agonized scream. I'd always known it, but I'd never really felt true pain -or true grief, until I lost my entire family. The times I'd sliced my hands open or gotten rocks shoved into my kneecaps from doing stupid, childish things hurt, of course. I'm not denying that. But that was only after I'd looked at them and realized there was actually something wrong. That probably went down to a rush of adrenaline or shock, but adrenaline couldn't entirely fix this, which sent me, gripping my shoulder and letting out a few short-lived sobs as I pushed myself to my feet and started walking down the hill, my vision blurred by the tears and raindrops obstructing any form of clarity.

I was walking slowly, but I could imagine Percy peering over the hill and getting angry on my behalf, if he could get any worse than it already was. Through my pain, I heard so little, but as I hurried down the hill, getting faster as the white hot pain in my shoulder seemed to die away, I caught the slightest noise, nearly blocked by the wind: something about 'ground beef'.

I grinned, braced myself from the agony that would surely result, and began to run. Sure enough, the pain seemed to shoot through my entire body, but in spite of that, it was probably the fastest half mile I'd ever run, even in the mud. I felt as if I'd practically teleported when my feet thumped against the wood of the porch. I didn't stop to look around or eye the windows or anything; I just took on fist, my good arm, and rapped my knuckles against the door, probably too gently given the situation.

I waited a few seconds, and then knocked a little louder, just as the door opened.

I was lucky for once. Instead of Dionysus or some camp counselor, the door had opened to reveal none other than my Latin teacher. And Percy's, for that matter. It was dark, and it must have taken even his animalian eyes a moment to adjust, but he looked surprised, like he hadn't expected me to show up this early.

Furthermore, the guy was in full on horse mode. Beyond his waist, I vaguely registered something white and smooth, like silk without the luster. What had Percy compared it to? Velvet? But I was sort of swimming in a rapidly decreasing amount of shock and adrenaline, and I already knew about that anyways, so I ignored it for the time being. Actually, he'd probably realize something was up, but I wouldn't be doing too much talking about it. I'd actually thought about telling Mr. Bru - Chiron, but eventually I'd decided that telling anyone about my knowledge would be dangerous. I'd be killed if the gods found out, and possibly if Luke did, too. Though more than likely he'd try to recruit me or something, and dispose of me when he had all the information he needed. I didn't think Chiron would intentionally put me in danger, but the guy had everyone's best interests at heart, not just mine, and if he tried to hide it, Zeus would probably doom the entire Camp. So I'd hide it myself.

"Ama -"

"Percy'satthetopofthehillfightingamonsterpleasehismomweneedhelp," I blurted, pointing desperately in that direction with my sore arm and then gasping as it fell uselessly to my side. The centaur's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing, but he also glanced, alarmed, onto the hillside, his eyes catching onto something as following it down the hill. My heart nearly stopped. What if I hadn't changed anything? What if Grover got KO'd again and Percy was carting him over here? What if I _had_ managed? If Percy was dead, or Grover was? What if the Minotaur had somehow managed to cross the barriers and was barrelling down the hillside and straight at me? With my arm the way it was, and feeling suddenly coming back to me, I wouldn't be rolling out of the way.

"Amara, my dear," he said, putting a hand on my undamaged shoulder. "Go inside and wait."

 _And drag in all this mud?_ I thought numbly, but the truth was that I was about to start sobbing. I knew that I must have failed, and that neither of the guys were coming back, or that one of them was, holding a limp, dead body. I was seconds from vomiting, and as my teacher tried to guide me inside, I turned.

Heading down the hillside was an exhausted, black-haired boy, leaning heavily against the side of a shaken-looking satyr.

I had not failed after all.

I wandered in without another word and the door closed behind me, leaving me to stand awkwardly on a mat in front of the door. I didn't want to wander in further for fear of encountering Dionysus in my current, disgusting state - which was just beginning to really dawn on me - and I also didn't want to track mud all over the floor. Besides that, common sense dictated that I could probably peep out the door if I tried hard enough. So I stayed facing it, shuffling awkwardly in my place as I waited for something to happen. For several long moments, nothing did. And then the door swung open - thankfully to the outside - and this blonde kid was standing there, his blue eyes glowing with seriousness even though he'd probably been woken up minutes ago. He was probably here to have a look at my arm. _Son of Apollo,_ I thought, giving him a once-over as he gestured outside. "Out here. We need to get that shoulder fixed so you can get situated."

I felt the tiniest amount of dread bubble up in the pit of my stomach, but was pretty sure that no needles would be involved. Still, I was becoming more and more aware of the pain in my left shoulder, and I knew that it was probably dislocated. Getting it popped back in would more than likely be hell. We walked around the house on the porch in silence, which was probably my fault. I've always sort of exuded awkwardness, after all. "Thanks. Sorry I'm so muddy."

"It's fine," said the son of Apollo with a shrug and a tired smile. "I'm Will. Will Smith."

"Amara," I told him, my own face blank as I struggled to cover a grimace. The more I calmed down, the more I felt each step, twitch, and breath reverberating through the dislocated limb and even my chest. It was intense, and I knew that if I didn't get it fixed soon enough I'd regret it.

"Alright, in here," he instructed, opening the door widely for me and allowing me into a room with a few beds. Actually, Percy was passed out in one of them, and Grover was parked by his side. He was pale and worried looking, but I also saw a glimmer of relief and hope in his eyes. And I realized that I _had_ changed something.

 _Woah…_ Grover actually carried Percy into camp. He was conscious. Percy's mom still…

… but that was because of _my_ failure to wake him up quickly enough so that Sally could stop distracting the Minotaur from us and run to safety. This basically meant that Grover had at least a chance of getting his searcher's license.

"Sit down here and we'll fix you up." _There's that dread again,_ I thought as I hesitantly settled down, making sure to keep an eye on Will as he wandered around the room. "I'm just going to check on…"

"Percy," Grover said, since Will had trailed off, though I thought it was pretty obvious that he already knew Percy's name.

"Percy, first," Will finished, and I could hear the rustling of sheets and some restless mumbling. "He seems to be doing well. He's just exhausted and probably in shock. We'll have to keep a close eye on him, but he doesn't seem to have any serious injuries from the fight."

"Thank the gods," sighed Grover. "You okay, Amara?"

"Mostly," I replied, and the mere movement of muscles in my neck caused pain in my shoulder. I quivered. "I wasn't even really involved in the fight, remember?"

"Oh," Grover answered, " yeah."

"Amara, I'm going to poke around here a little," Will said, teleporting beside me and almost immediately doing so. I let out a choked noise and he nodded in confirmation. "It's dislocated. Do you know what happened?"

"I fell on it," was all I recalled for him, as I still felt a little cowardly for plunging over the property line and leaving Percy and Grover to fend for themselves. There hadn't exactly been any other choices at the time, but there was still the lingering feeling that I should have done something more spectacular. Percy had lost a lot because of my failure to prevent what I knew would happen, and he'd saved my life twice now - or killed something on my behalf, anyways. I owed him double. Gods knew how I was gonna pay him back.

"We'll have to put it back in," Will told me, sounding apologetic already. I braced myself, my muscles tensing. _Holy shit, I am_ not _looking forward to this._ His hands were gentle on my shoulder and arm, but only made me more anxious. "On my count?" he intoned, and I grunted fearfully in response. "Three… two -"

There was a pop, an agonizing pain, and then the sound of an high-pitched voice swearing openly.

It took me a minute to realize it was me. "FFFFFFF… you didn't say one, _you didn't say one…_ "

Will gave me a small and awkwardly patted my back. "Rest your arm when you can or it might dislocate again. The longer it has to recover the more sturdy it'll be later."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, wanting to rub my shoulder but afraid to touch it.

"I'll bring you some nectar later," Will told me, and I raised my eyebrows out of necessity, wiping a lone tear from my eye. "For now, you should wait for Chiron to come and talk to you. He'll be this way soon."

I didn't say anything, but Will kept smiling at me. I'd always been told that I was mean-looking and intimidating when I was thinking, and that, unless I was smiling, I always looked angry otherwise. So, where most people would have assumed I was unreachable, he just beamed at me and waved before leaving the room. Will was the kind of person I actively avoided. Too sweet, too kind. Destined to be destroyed.

He wasn't, I thought, too dissimilar from Percy Jackson himself.

* * *

 _As promised, here's chapter 6. By the way, chapter 13 is a frigging monster. I'm talking like 6000+ words._

 _Two reviews and I update a day early. I'll count the reviews from last chapter as well. Next update on the 25th._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

Nectar was bizarre.

I know a lot of us Percy Jackson fans were reading through the books and going, _Woah! That sounds totally awesome!_ I mean, liquid chocolate chip cookies, homemade and fresh out of the over, soft and dissolving on your tongue? That's obviously _pretty_ cool. But, in all honesty, when I was taking a sip of the stuff, all that I could think was that I wanted to drink as little of it as possible with the longest intervals between as possible. It wasn't that it was gross - it was just that liquid chicken casserole was somehow a lot less appealing than I'd imagined it. Take away the texture and the dish lost a lot of character, I suppose.

"Can I please have some water," I said flatly, rolling my tongue around in my mouth to make the flavor go away. It was actually making me _hungry_ ; I could almost smell poppy-seed chicken and, homesickness aside, I realized I was starving. I'd not eaten in over twenty-four hours and hadn't really slept in three days - four, since the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. I could see the sky glowing beautifully even through the windows. The rays of the run were painting the sky and the clouds pink and yellows and oranges, and I savored the image while it lasted. I wasn't a morning person anyways, so who knew how many more sunsets I'd get to see?

My eyelids flickered tiredly, but I struggled to stay awake. I couldn't exactly sleep through the day here, since that's when things tended to happen. Since it was just my arm that was out of commission, I'd probably be participating in some things. I'd have to. After all, I was a half-blood, so I couldn't act like some kind of softie all the time.

"You okay, Underwood?" I said finally, my voice quiet with sleep as I kicked my feet. In terms of actual importance to the series, Grover didn't really do anything key until the fourth book. But he was Percy's best friend, so I figured it would pay off to be nice to him. Besides, people tended to see me as standoffish and hateful right off the bat because of my private and quiet nature, so I'd been working on talking to people more often, even if it gave me nerves. It was what had improved my social life so much before I got zapped into the happy world of Percy Jackson and co. All of my efforts were as good as wasted, then.

"Fine," he said quietly. "When did you come here, anyways? Did you get attacked?" He sounded almost sorry. Maybe he thought I should have been given a protector too, but I hadn't really needed one.

"No," I answered bluntly, choosing to leave it at that. "I assume Chiron is the centaur who opened the door for me? Looked like Mr. Brunner?"

" _Was_ Mr. Brunner," Grover corrected as I shifted to turn towards him. "I was originally stationed at Yancy to keep an eye out for any demigods, and then you two showed up. Two of you at once is risky anyways, but I kept picking up a weird scent and let Chiron know about it. He came to check up on you two."

"So Mr. Brunner was a centaur the whole time?" I asked interestedly, propping my head up on my chin. "How did he fit into that wheelchair, then? He wasn't exactly small."

"Magic," Grover told me hesitantly, like he was worried he'd scare me. "If you didn't get attacked, then how did you know to come here?"

"Instincts," I lied, facing forward again so that I didn't have to look his direction any longer. "Couldn't have picked a worse time to show up, huh?" Grover only chuckled weakly in response, and it was quiet again. I sort of felt like I was bathing in my own bad social skills. _Ugh._

Luckily, in the convenient ways things tend to happen in books and TV, someone happened to open the door only a few moments later. I wasn't surprised to find that it was my teacher in his wheelchair, running a hand through his thinning brown hair and smiling at me from my seat on the bed. I glanced at his chair and his unmoving 'paralyzed' legs but said nothing. "Ah, Amara. I heard that Percy is well on the way to recovery. How is your shoulder?"

It throbbed painfully, as if on cue, but I only said, "Fine, sir."

"That's good," he said warmly. "Would you follow me, then? I believe we have much to talk about." I nodded and stood up, ignoring the twinge in my arm as I began to follow him out the door. _Much to talk about alright._ I wondered how confused I should act, or whether I should make clear right up front that I 'figured things out' easily. I didn't want people to think I could predict the future, but would it really be awful if they just thought I had good foresight? Wouldn't that make me a good person to keep safe and have on their side? A good person to trust, even if they sometimes behave… oddly?

"So," I said to my Latin teacher as we exited onto the porch, "I suppose I should call you… _Chiron_ now?" It felt strange and unfamiliar in my mouth even though I'd known of his identity all along. I'd gotten so used to Mr. Brunner being just that - Mr. Brunner, an awesome Latin teacher and the only person in the school who wasn't incredibly boring or annoying. I knew I'd still have to watch my step around him, though. He was intelligent enough that he would probably come to a conclusion way too close to the truth if I slipped up. So I didn't want to act all too much.

Brunner chuckled. "You figured it out quickly - as expected of my best student, of course." I felt my face flush, a very real reaction on my part, at the compliment. I was his best student, but as usual, I couldn't take the compliment. It always made me feel braggy to do that even though that had nothing to do with it. It wasn't like I was complimenting _myself._

"Thank you," I said, "though I did have Grover confirm my theory for me."

Chiron did not scold me for deflecting his praise; I was a demigod and one of the most common themes in ancient Greek mythology was the gods' hatred of the prideful (irony or hypocrisy?). It was probably good that I was this way. Besides that, we had turned the corner and my stomach turned with unease.I'd set my eyes on him: a small and fat man who I knew to be the god Dionysus. His skin was pale but not deathly so, and his hair seemed almost royal blue in the light that came under the roof and lit even the shaded porch. He was wearing a tacky leopard-print with some of the brightest colors on dismal looking person.

He sat at a table with a deck of cards, though I hoped we wouldn't be playing anything. Did I know how to play pinochle? Yes. Was I good at it?

Cute question.

And if it was something other than pinochle I probably couldn't play it, period. That was the only thing I'd researched. "Now, Amara, this is our camp director, Mr. D. I implore you to use the manners for which the teachers knew you at Yancy." I raised my eyebrows. _There are worse things to be known for, I guess._ I hadn't known that my abnormal formality stood out so much. If I was ADHD, wasn't that a little too unusual? _Maybe I should tone it down a little._

"Of course, sir," I replied smoothly. It was too late for my personality to go through anything but a natural one. It would be both suspicious and obvious. Too obvious to risk doing in front of this person who'd known me for months.

My teacher motioned to a seat opposite Mr. D. The closer I got to the guy, the more detail I could note, like the slight bags under his eyes, and how very bloodshot they were. I noticed how his skin had a slight sweaty sheen to it, and that I could smell something I identified as wine on him even though I'd never smelled wine before, never mind that he'd not had _any_ alcohol in years. I noticed that he was looking at me like I smelled bad, though his eyes flickered up and down enough that I may not have noticed if I wasn't looking for it. I sat down across from the god, meeting his eyes as I flickered up. "I understand you're the camp director? I apologize for any trouble caused by Percy and I. I'm sure the two of us caused quite the hassle."

"Indeed, Amara Easterling," the god boomed, giving me an unaffected stare. I nearly rolled my eyes but resisted the urge. I hated being told off, and here it was happening with the audience of my favorite teacher. _How embarrassing._ "All of you foolish children do, so don't feel special about it."

I couldn't help it; I cracked a smile. "Of course not, sir. Not at all."

His beady eyes finally left my face, and Chiron coughed uncomfortably. "Well, Amara, did your parents tell you anything of your origins while they were still living?" _Still living. So they're dead after all._ Something cold inside of me said that they probably weren't the parents I knew, since neither of them would have had an affair or sex before marriage as staunch Christians, and that it was best anyways since my overprotective mother and father would never allow me to play the hero. I blinked and finally realized that Chiron was still staring expectantly at me.

Swallowing a slight lump in my throat at the thoughts, I took in a short breath of air to clear my head. "No, though I do have a few theories. Mrs. Jackson said that this place was warded or something. Is something here that warrants protection from things like the beast that attacked Percy last night? Also, Grover is a satyr. Or a faun? So whatever is happening here is somehow involved with the ancient Greek or Roman pantheons… I expect Mrs. Dodds was real. Well, I know she was and probably what she was. I don't know how I tie into this, though."

Chiron looked a little impressed, which was pleasing in and of itself, and said, "Excellent, Amara. You are correct. Grover is a satyr and what you and Mr. Jackson faced last night was a monster of the Greek pantheon." He paused. "Percy's mother was also correct in her assertion that this camp has protective borders against monsters. They do not, however, exist to guard an object. The borders exist for the good of the half-human offspring of the gods: demigods like you."

There was a long moment of silence, during which Mr. D finished shuffling the cards (I wasn't quite sure when he'd started). "I do hope you know how to play pinochle, young lady."

"It… depends upon the variation, sir," I said flatly, giving a dry swallow. "Demigods. And since Percy and I made it into camp we're - okay. I understand."

Once again, the good teacher chuckled at me. "You seem to be adjusting to the idea quickly, Amara." His voice was light-hearted, but his eyes seemed to pierce through to my soul.

I hardened my gaze in response. "I adapt quickly," I replied coolly. "Besides, it's not as outlandish as it should be since I've encountered two monsters now. Perhaps more that I don't know about or remember if Dodds's exceptional ability to blend in is any indication." I wondered if I actually had run into anything. Didn't Percy get stalked by a Cyclops and attacked by a snake as a child? And Annabeth was mobbed by spiders. If I could remember if and what I had encountered, there was a chance that it would hint at the identity of my godly parent.

I assumed we were playing standard pinochle and just went along with it. Luckily, Mr. D didn't smite me or anything. Chiron said, "Generally we would show you an orientation film we have prepared for new campers, but even with the conclusions you have drawn yourself, I'm uncertain of whether it could answer all of your questions." From what I recalled, Chiron wasn't always so great at answering questions either, but I didn't mention it.

"Did you make the trip to Yancy for Percy's benefit?" I asked, disregarding his statement about the film. Why watch a graphic depiction of what I already knew and accepted? "When I encountered the Minotaur and Mrs. Dodds, I was with Percy each time, and both times I forced myself into the situations. Mrs. Dodds was actually willing to ignore me. Is someone targeting Percy?" It wasn't much of a stretch, and I was hoping for Chiron to confirm that I wasn't incredibly powerful or anything.

"Grover was just one of the many satyrs monitoring schools across the states, but he alerted me of one scent that was incredibly strong - Percy," Chiron explained. "He also mentioned you, but you weren't very conspicuous until a few weeks before the field trip to the Metropolitan Museum. So yes, it could be said that I was largely there for Percy's sake." _Way to dodge that last question._ Still, I couldn't help but be alarmed. I hadn't even been here a few weeks before the field trip, which meant that the me before had started to realize what she was even before I got there. _Why?_

I also got the feeling that, even with the ignored last question aside, Chiron was leaving something out - something important. I just had no clue what it was. Maybe I really was more powerful than he was letting on? Or more likely the change occurred so quickly he thought something unusual must have happened. If he was expecting me to tell him what it was, he was out of luck since I couldn't even remember it myself. "Good," I replied simply, bottling up my intrigue for later. "Are we expected to stay here forever?"

"Some can get away with living at home during the school year," Chiron answered as we continued our game (which I was losing miserably). "It often depends both on the parentage of the demigod and on the power of the individual. Demigod siblings are not necessarily equal in power." My nose wrinkled in distaste. _I might have siblings again - as if they could replace the ones I've lost._

"Do you know who my parent is?" I asked, surprising myself by how unhappy I sounded about it. Of course, I was unhappy. As far as I was concerned, I knew exactly who my real parents were - both of them. Accepting that one wasn't related to me at all was a bitter pill to swallow, even in this universe. Still, it was probably the question Chiron had been waiting for a while now, so he was set with an answer.

"I'm afraid not, Amara," he told me. "There's really no way of knowing until they claim you."

"And how would that happen?" I replied skeptically, raising a brow.

"You'll know if it does," Chiron assured me, and I hesitantly nodded in response. "Be patient, Amara." He didn't assure me of anything, I noticed. After all, he'd not been one to sugarcoat things in the books. Even if he had hidden the truth sometimes, he tried to act for the greater good and was ultimately honest with his students without defying the gods. So, all in all I appreciated that he didn't lie to me even if he'd apparently decided I didn't need the whole truth either.

"Right," I muttered, noting the smell of wine growing stronger for a moment before going away. I looked up at Dionysus, actually having forgotten that he was even there. He'd been quiet, but the guy wasn't exactly interested in engaging his campers, was he? The guy magicked up this ornate glass, which then filled itself with a pretty, deep red liquid. There was a fresh-pressed grape smell that seemed to drift in the wind, growing stronger as he used his power. It was sort of like when Chiron as Mr. Brunner had essentially confirmed my worst fears for me, but in a good way. I already knew it could happen, but in a way it was still surprising. So, rather childishly, in spite of the reprimanding terms I could already hear on Chiron's lips, I exclaimed, "Woah! That's - You're so _cool_!" I'm pretty sure it was the most like a thirteen-year-old that I'd actually sounded.

Dionysus practically glared at me. "I was under the impression that you knew of everything already," he said, and then tacked on "child" for good measure. Not that it made it any less cool. Besides that, he looked a little less disappointed that I existed now, so that was a good thing.

"Mr. D," Chiron warned, "remember your restrictions."

 _To poke fun, or not to poke fun? That is the question._

"Bah!" Mr. D grumped as he instantly replaced the glass with a glistening can of Diet Coke. "Sorry. Old habits die hard, you know. That's what they say, is it not, Amara Easterling?"

I nodded in agreement. _It's probably a bad idea._

"One run in with a wood nymph and prohibition for a century!" he fumed. "What an injustice."

"In all fairness, director," Chiron said, shooting me a wink, "it wasn't _one_ run-in."

Odd that they felt comfortable discussing that in front of a thirteen-year old. A thirteen-year-old product of promiscuity, but a thirteen-year-old nonetheless. "So… you're Dionysus, right? And you… hooked up with a wood nymph and you can't drink wine anymore?" I paused. _Don't say stupid._ "But that's… that's brutal!" Thunder boomed in the background, but to be honest, I wasn't apologizing. I mean, who of us read the books and didn't think that was a little harsh? Okay, so Dionysus was supposed to be married, but who was Zeus to complain about unfaithfulness?

"Isn't it?" he agreed, waving his hands and sloshing Coke all over the cards as Chiron chuckled and tallied up the points. "Honestly, I think father just likes to punish me. It's _absurd._ " He took a sip of his Diet Coke, reddened eyes darting up to the clouds and then back to me. "Not to mention that I'm stuck here with you brats."

 _Ow._

 _I can see where he's coming from, though._ "I wouldn't want to be stuck with a bunch of sniveling brats for a century either, I guess. We must seem terribly stupid."

"At least you recognize it," he acknowledged. "I think I'm correct in saying that acceptance is the first stage to recovery."

Okay. I could see why Percy didn't like the guy, but I thought he was brilliant. I wiped a tear from my eye. Anything that I may have said was lost in the midst of my efforts to make my silent laughter as inconspicuous as possible. The sarcasm? The way he was managing to compliment and insult me all at once? Hilarious. Of course, it would have been less so if I hadn't been the one to devise the jab at the first place, but it felt like I was in on the joke even if the guy hadn't intended it. I could hardly remember why I'd been dreading the meeting so in the first place.

"Did I win this time, Chiron?" Mr. D asked lazily, paying no heed to my mirth.

"I'm afraid not, Mr. D," Chiron answered with a shake of his head. He looked amused at the concept of being beaten, and also unabashed at the glare the director was shooting him (I was admittedly glad not to be on the receiving end of that one). Dionysus looked like he was ready to chuck the old centaur right off of Mount Olympus over the dumb game. Of course, I was a little sympathetic. I hated losing, too. Pinochle just didn't count because I was terrible at it and wasn't interested enough by any card game to practice.

"Looks like you're about to get the _grand tour,_ Amelia," Mr. D said, spitting the words out like they were foul. _Of course he'd be a sore loser. Why not?_ He glared me down and I tried not to shrink back into my seat in spite of the lingering coward within. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood." And the, as if for good measure: "It was my displeasure meeting you."

Before I had a chance to reply - perhaps he feared I'd say something rude - Chiron coughed loudly. "Come along, Amara. I'll show you around camp, since you might remain here for some time." I nodded in agreement and turned my back on the mildly terrifying/hilarious director without another word, following Chiron as he rolled off of the porch.

It was a lucky thing that it hadn't been pouring inside of the camp boundaries the night before, since the wheels of his chair would have gotten stuck in the soft mud. Instead, the earth was dry and firm enough for him to roll about without much trouble. I briefly picked up the pace to walk by Chiron's side, looking around at the vastness of the property.

After a few moments, we reached the strawberry fields. I could actually smell the fresh, sweet fruit as we walked through rows of them, rising from the earth on their pretty green plants, plump and red and shining in the light. "Delphi Strawberry Service," I blurted, suddenly remembering the name from the book. "Is this it? Or is the name just a coincidence?"

I'd apparently managed to surprise Chiron, which was somehow pleasing. "Indeed," he chuckled. "Perhaps you saw one of the transports at a restaraunt. We supply them and even Mount Olympus with strawberries to cover camp expenses,"

"So the gods don't do that?" I asked, not quite sure where the question even came from. It didn't seem like a half bad question to me, though. If the gods couldn't keep it in their pants, the least they could do was pay for our safety in camp. It wasn't like they were struggling financially.

Chiron looked untroubled by the question, from what I could tell. Obviously he had no clue of the disrespectful thoughts stemming from it. _But do they even really deserve respect?_ From the myths, all they really had in their favor was power. They had shitty character overall but were better than the Titans, so people worshipped them, "Unfortunately, that would be a violation of the ancient laws, codes that the gods and even the Titans must adhere to. They can't interfere directly with heroes, especially not those on a quest or for extended time periods." _What a bizarre answer. That doesn't make sense relative to what I know._ For instance, Nico. The kid probably ate with his dad sometimes. He had a freaking home in the Underworld, for Pete's sake, How did that not count as a violation of the ancient laws? And if it did, he wasn't exactly going to suffer for it.

 _What if they're nothing more than an excuse?_

I was starting to see where Luke was coming from.

"Okay," I replied, though I wasn't quite sure if it was.

"It isn't abnormal to feel abandoned," the centaur said, startling me.

"I don't," I snapped. It was sort of true, It was really more like I'd been kidnapped, and I felt empty and alone and angry that the kidnapper hadn;t replaced what they'd taken away. So he was wrong, but the fact that he'd noted anything amiss in the first place confirmed that he was too perceptive. "Can I have a strawberry?"

Even an idiot would have realized that I'd shut down any potential for discussion, and Chiron wasn't stupid. "Of course," he answered, and I pulled one from its stem and ruffed its smooth, seeded surface against my shirt before eating it. I usually like my strawberries cold and rolled around in granulated sugar, but this one was good enough without. Its flesh was sweet and soft and warmed by the sunlight, showing no signs of the unnatural pace at which it had grown.

"So," I said through a mouthful, "how are these growing so fast? Is it -?" I gestured at one of the nearby satyrs, who was playing some cheery tune on his reed pipes and watching the plants in front of him expand at an alarming rate.

"That and the presence of Mr. D - you guessed his identity, as expected of you," Chiron told me. "He has a beneficial effect on fruit-producing plants, especially grapes."

"... but he's prohibited from those," I finished, just stopping myself from giving a demeaning shake of my head, _Poor guy._ "I guess that explains how you're operating off of only one fruit."

"Indeed," he chuckled, and then pointed to our left, "We're about to reach the cabins, but from here you can see the arena and the armory. I don't suppose you have your own weapon yet?"

I gave him a _look._ I'm not sure what it was but it must have been something, because he raised his eyebrows in reply. "No," said, settling on it for its monotone simplicity in a situation that probably called for at least a little sarcasm.

"We'll stop by and get you a sword and shield soon," he muttered. "Should you ever wish for something more specialized, you'll have to talk to one of the camp blacksmiths."

"Camp blacksmiths," I echoed. He probably didn't tell Percy that because he did have a weapon already, whether he knew it or not. What kind of weapon would I want, anyway? I knew I needed one if I was ever going to do anything, and there was no way I'd sit around doing nothing. Whether I had some kind of special power or not - and I was pretty sure I didn't - I would need something that would render a threat dead. And I was planning to be on the road, too, so why not something that could protect me from mortals as well?

I wondered if any of the Hephaestus kids would forge me that.

"I left my bag on the hillside," I said suddenly as we approached the cabins. I could hardly believe my own negligence _. I should have gone back to get it as soon as I could. How stupid of me._

"Worry not," Chiron reassured me as I yawned into my palm. "Grover went back to fetch the spoils of war for Percy, He likely got your bag for you."

"Good," I said, thinking of how disgustingly muddy both I and my bad were, and how many dozens of showers it would take to feel clean again. A shiver ran down my spine and I resolved not to look at my sleeves, which were cakes in drying mud - as was everything else, for that matter, I could hardly believe I'd had the nerve to sit on the clean sheets of one of those bunks. _Repulsive._

"Here we are," he said as we exited the strawberry fields and wandered towards the cabins, which surrounded a clear, grassy area. "The cabins. Campers stay here. You'll be in cabin eleven for now."

"For now?" I asked,though I knew the answer already.

"When your parent claims you, you might be moved to a different cabin."

"Oh."

We first stopped walking in front of cabins one and two. I knew what they'd be like even before I saw them, but Percy's description didn't do them justice at all. They weren't just like mausoleums; it was like a mausoleum and a grand Greek temple, ancient but strong, were combined. They were massive, the first one especially towering over the whole lot. The door was huge and brassy, and it seemed to be polished oddly, based off of how the light was hitting it. There were no widows, though the second cabin seemed more inhabitant friendly what with the viny flowers growing up its smaller, thinner pillars and the intricate peacocks that decorated the gleaming marble. I swallowed and began walking away from them. Maybe it was just my knowledge from the series but somehow both of them seemed hostile. I turned my head to take a final look but quickly stared straight ahead when I saw the light shooting across the first cabin's metal doors in lightning bolts. _At least that explains the funky polish._ "Zeus and Hera?" I asked, though it must have sounded rhetorical since Chiron didn't answer.

Cabin three: a little more rustic, a little more suited to my tastes. Poseidon. It's stony outer walls were sort of neat looking. I imagined that going inside would be like living in an underwater cave. It didn't seem to demand as much attention as the first two, so I walked on, catching the taste of saltwater as I licked my lips.

Besides Apollo's cabin (how could anyone live in that thing?) I paid little attention to the rest. They were unimportant to me, which would be ironic if I ended up in one of them. At least I could already confirm that I wasn't a child of Aphrodite. "Cabin eleven… the only cabin that actually looks like a summer camp cabin, right?" I asked, directing my view to the cabin with the rusty '11' hanging by the door and the pale brown paint peeling back to reveal worn, chipping wood. It was totally, one-hundred percent ugly. That wasn't really a problem, though. The real problem would be the people.

Gosh, I despised people.

"Yes. Amara. And the symbol above the door…?" Mr. Brunner - er, Chiron - went back into teacher mode.

"A caduceus," I answered flatly, "an indication that the occupants of this cabin are the offspring of the god Hermes."

Among them? A sure fire enemy and a force for evil: Luke Castellan, future vessel for Kronos himself.

* * *

 _This chapter took a surprising amount of time to write. It's got a little more dialogue than usual, so that may be why. I'm not always great at that. And the conversation with everyone's favorite camp director was especially difficult._

 _By the way, I just wanted to let you know that I now have a beta reader,_ x Captain of the Swans x. _They won't be editing any chapters until the next chapter (8) so all errors up to this point are completely my own. I want to thank them now for being willing to take this on._

 _Also, there will be a little bit of a longer wait between updates this time. I'm scheduling it for the sixth of June, since I want to read over all of my previous chapters for mistakes and hopefully write a couple of chapters in the downtime. This time, I'm going to say that I'll update a day early for every three reviews posted, but I think it'[ll revert back to two afterwards._

 _By the way, got any ideas for this story? PM me, I'd love to hear them!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

He left me there to fend for myself. Honestly, I was about half a second from boiling over. Introductions were not my forte. Social anything was not my forte, but here I was, standing on my own in front of the cabin and wishing the light shining off the Apollo cabin would just kill me already. _Gods. I can't do this, what was he thinking?_

But I finally gathered the backbone to walk up to the door, my limbs trembling numbly as I approached. Nobody had noticed me at first, but as I reached the door frame, a few heads started to turn. "Another newbie," I heard someone groan as I stared apprehensively into the mass of campers. I wondered is most of them were undetermined, or if Hermes was just very busy. It seemed as if there was a person for every square foot of space. Obviously that's a gross exaggeration, but the point is that there were a ton of them packed into a relatively small cabin. _So Hera gets a fucking cabin but they can't afford an upgrade for these guys? What the hell…_

"I'm a new camper?" I said, cursing my terrible social skills, "Name's Amara. Undetermined, I'm afraid."

A few more groans. I was finding it hard not to take it all personally.

In a snap, a couple of slightly older guys materialized on either side of me. "You shouldn't linger on the doorstep like that," scolded one, and I turned to see a boy with a mop of dusty brown hair that fell into his gleaming blue eyes. At first, I thought he might be friendly, but by the time I turned to the other guy, I knew who they were. _Holy crap. It's the not twins, the Stoll brothers_. Right away, the sarcasm that shone from their every pore and the mischief implied in their upturned eyebrows became a lot more obvious. I immediately decided not to trust them with or around any of my possessions.

"Come inside," said the second guy, and I swallowed, following him in. "Luke - he's our senior counselor - isn't in here right now, but when he gets back he'll make sure you have a place to sleep."

"It'll be on the floor," warned a red-head girl in the crowd. I cringed but said nothing. I couldn't sleep without utter darkness, or in rooms full of people, and not on hard surfaces. The next few weeks were gonna be freakin' peachy.

"But if you get claimed, you'll either get moved to a different cabin or bumped up the wait list for an actual bunk," the first kid said.

"Welcome to the Hermes cabin," the second said as I stopped in front of the crowd. I looked out at their faces and found that it was pretty easy to identify the Hermes kids versus the unclaimed. Even without noting any mischievous aura or similar features, I realized that some of them just had this look of distraught hopefulness, like they were anticipating something, but it was impossible and they knew it. It gave me a lingering feeling of depression and I made a point not to look at them anymore. I had a bad feeling that if I stayed alive long enough, I'd be one of them.

"Do you have any powers?" asked a blonde boy. "Or weird habits that you can't explain?" They're trying to help me figure out who my godly parent is. They didn't do this in the books, so it must be because Luke's not here.

"I'm guessing you mean besides obsessive hand washing and mild germaphobia?" I asked sarcastically, hoping to deter any more questions.

A short girl (I assume she was short because I didn't see her in the crowd) piped up. "That counts. What else?"

"Nothing," I answered. "I don't have any special powers."

"Is it your mom or your dad?"

"Huh?" I asked, spinning to try and pinpoint who'd asked me.

"Your godly parent," explained Stoll brother 2. "Which is it?"

"I don't know," I replied. "I was raised by two parents."

"So you're adopted?"

"No, I-"

"Then your human parent remarried, Do you know which is your stepparent?"

"I - no!"

"What's your surname?" someone asked. "One of us will find out for you -"

"What are you gonna do, hack all of her family's personal life? Idiot."

"She'll just be another unclaimed."

"It's so crowded in here already."

"This is insane."

"There's another guy coming, too."

"Yeah, but he killed the Minotaur. What did this kid do?"

"You guys are being so mean. Cut the girl a break."

"Nothing!"

"Don't throw around names like that -"

"Who even cares?"

"Gods, this sucks."

"Sometimes I wish they'd just die before they get here."

"Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"It's our duty to welcome the wanderers."

"Doesn't mean we have to like it."

"We were all like her at some point."

"What he said."

"Preach!"

"You guys are idiots."

A sigh. "I'm disappointed in you guys."

Cue complete and utter silence.

"I doubt that our patron would be happy to see how quick you are to reject a newcomer," said the person smoothly. I swallowed. I knew he was behind me but I couldn't turn around, knowing who he was. Who it must have been. "Welcome to cabin eleven, Amara. I was told you'd be here."

I turned slowly, swallowing a lump as I looked up. Luke was a lot taller to me, or it seemed that way, at least. I could see his muscles flexing as he moved. He wasn't grotesquely buff, but attractively so. His white t-shirt was a little wrinkled but clean, and he wore light colored jeans that looked a little worn at the knees. He was also wearing this ancient-looking pair of sandals, which were covered in dust and probably the only imperfect thing about him. Even his blonde hair was carefully spiked up, and his eyes held something that I knew was carefully composed cheer. The scar on his face seemed to mar the facade if only a little. Still, I could see why Annabeth was so into him. Evil or not, the guy was smoking hot. "Hello," I answered without stuttering or squeaking, much to my relief.

"There should be an empty space on the floor," he muttered, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea to reveal what may have been the only unoccupied spot on the floor. Now Percy won't have a spot. I frowned. "There. By the way, Grover wanted me to let you know that he grabbed your bag. You can set it down there to mark your spot when you get it."

I doubted I'd be leaving anything important sitting around in this cabin, but nodded anyways. "Th-Thanks." Damn.

"We'll make an effort to get you a sleeping bag by tonight," he told me. "You need one, don't you?"

"Yessir." What can I say? I was southern raised.

If I wasn't mistaken, Luke smirked a little. Of course he thought it was funny. I'd done plenty of statewide traveling with my family, and I'd noticed that generally, the further north you got, the more casual things were. But I couldn't imagine myself ever growing out of it. My dad always told me it was the respectful thing to do. And I could have a hell of a temper, but I usually wasn't inherently disrespectful of authority. And the simple fact was that, for now, Luke had authority. "I'll come with you to get your bag," he said, motioning to the door and beginning to walk away. "Chiron tells me he didn't finish up your tour."

"No," I agreed, reluctantly following him as noise picked up in the cabin. I trudged along and stared longingly at the open door as we got further away. This was both unbearably awkward and the tiniest bit terrifying. Don't give yourself away. "Isn't the - the farmhouse the other way?"

"The Big House," Luke corrected, turning and waiting for me to catch up. It was totally bizarre, trying to decide whether it was just the same acting he'd been showing everyone, or if he was trying to trick me especially with his attention and his over-the-top kindness. I wasn't sure why he'd try to manipulate a thirteen-year-old, but he'd done it to Percy. "That's right, but I want to go ahead and show you the rest of camp."

"Oh," I replied. "Okay." I couldn't figure out to say for the life of me. Awkward awkward awkward.

We approached a wooded area and Luke stopped, staring up at the masses of trees until I stood in the shade beside him. "These," he told me, "are the woods. They're sometimes stocked with monsters, so if you go in, make sure you're armed, and don't go alone."

"Do the monsters ever get out of the woods?" I asked, frowning.

"Not often, but it happens," he answered. I fidgeted a little, uncomfortable with the moment of silence that passed between us. My clothes were stiff from mud. It was a relief that I'd been able to wash my hands and face, but my body and clothing were still unclean. Disgusting, I thought, but pushed the interjection aside. I didn't have the time to be all germaphobic. "We use the woods for training activities and capture the flag. I think the next game is on Friday. You could probably start training today."

I was sort of looking forward to it, but I also knew that I'd probably be totally humiliated and suck at everything. The worst part was that I knew I wouldn't be able to give up. When I was little, I'd been a pro quitter, but the older I got, the more perseverance I gained. By this point in my life, I was so persistent in some matters that I was occasionally seen as obsessive. I'd embarrass myself over and over. "Great."

"Did Chiron talk to you about getting a weapon from the armory?" Luke asked me while I stared at the tree line.

"Briefly."

"We'll see if we can find you one later, but I'll show you to the stables now." He turned his back on the forest and I followed. The plot was advancing, which meant that finalizing my plan was becoming more and more important. I wasn't planning on changing anything major, but I still wanted my involvement to be a slap in the face to whoever had brought me here.

We walked along the trees, our footsteps quiet. My dad had taken me hunting a lot in the past, so I had long since learned to move silently, my very breaths inaudible as I picked up my feet and set them down with the utmost care. It was something that I could imagine coming in handy.

My dad was the best, even if I did want to punch him in the face sometimes.

"You came here on your own, didn't you?" Luke asked me.

"Yes," I told him. "It was just terrible timing." I heard him give a weak chuckle, though I hadn't been joking anyways. He was probably going on some righteous tirade in his head, and I wondered if I should try to play his sympathies. But I wasn't that good of an actor, so I felt like it would probably be too much of a risk. Besides, I hadn't bothered to act the whole time I'd been there, so my true personality - that of a reasonably intelligent and seemingly abnormally mature sixteen-year-old. If I started acting like a whiny brat all of a sudden, someone would notice something was up, even if it wasn't Luke. In other words, I'd have to find some other way to keep him from thinking I was disposable or useless the way he apparently did Percy.

"Any idea who your parent is?" he asked, and I started. I got why the other inhabitants of the Hermes had asked; they'd wanted me out, or at least to know that I really belonged with them. I hadn't thought Luke was that way, though, and he wasn't exactly planning on hanging around camp for too much longer. So why would he care? The attentions I was being paid disturbed me. It wasn't what I wanted or expected. It didn't seem to bode well.

"No," I answered. "I was raised by two parents so I'm not even sure if it's my Mom or Dad."

"That's rough," he said. sounding disturbingly genuine. Don't get me wrong; I'd disliked Luke for being a murderer and hateful and for leading so many good kids astray, and for being so utterly smug about it until the last few chapters in the series. That was when the books weren't even real to me. Now, it was personal. I was standing by a kid who hated so much that he was willing to risk the entire world for revenge. My life was risk, and probably a hundred kids in camp at that moment would be dead within years because of his actions.

'Dislike' wasn't really the proper term anymore.

At the same time, he was a sympathetic character. The guy grew up with a crazy-ass mom and saw one of his best friends killed because of the negligence of the gods. He wanted revenge, and managed to convince himself that his agenda was for everyone's good. He got upset and screwed up, just like plenty of people did. The only difference was that his mistake would cost the world a lot more than irritation or a little regret. I despised Luke, but I also couldn't help but recognize that he had (inadequate) reasons.

"So why are there only twelve cabins if there are more than twelve gods?" I asked, deciding I could subtly present myself as an impressionable mind that he could potentially appeal to.

Luke sighed, looking rather like it wasn't something he wanted to have to explain to me, and very probably he didn't. "The other gods and goddesses do have kids… but they don't have cabins because we don't have the funding and the people who could fix the problem don't care." He was dumbing it down for me, but - ouch. "And then there are some who should definitely have cabins, but they don't because they're out of favor right now. It's a… complex issue." I wasn't sure, but I seriously doubted that he actually thought it was complex. Resentment was keeping him from accepting the truth of his own statement.

"But… aren't the minor gods insulted?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Possibly they're too powerful for it to be on behalf of their children, but aren't the gods known for being prideful? It would be a blow if they didn't have a cabin, especially some of the better known ones, yes?"

I watched Luke swallow before he answered. He seemed to become less content with every question. "I'm sure some of them are offended, but none of them are stupid enough to step on any toes. The rulers of Olympus are very powerful." He said nothing so overtly offensive out loud, but I could hear what he hadn't said. It's a tyranny.

"Oh," I said, sounding a little beat down.

As if to offer comfort, Luke added, "But children of minor gods and goddesses are always welcomed in the Hermes cabin." He gave me a lovely, glowing smile, and I nearly blushed a little in spite of all I knew about him. Luke actually caught me off guard when he stopped walking and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You shouldn't worry about it. I have a good feeling about you."

I don't think he intended for it to send a shiver up my spine.

"R-Really?" I responded. Hopefully I don't sound too freaked out. In the words of my favorite thirteen-year-old… "Do not presume to touch me!" "Ho - Why?"

Luke just grinned at me and nudged me forward as we began to walk again. Hopefully, he was just giving me the same bullshit he'd fed to Percy and everyone else. PJO: the one universe where it's really, really bad to be special. "We just passed by the arena. We practice using our weapons, especially swords, there. You'll hopefully begin training today, or maybe tomorrow." Great. I've got a one-way ticket on the humiliation train.

I was really just glad that I'd not had the misfortune of happening upon a child of Ares yet.

"And there's the armory. You'll go there to pick your own weapon at some point, but until then you'll wind up using a practice sword." Luke pointed in the direction of a building and I nodded, looking only briefly at it since we were still walking.

"Only swords?" I asked, since I thought that lifting something long and heavy like that would probably cause me to topple over.

"There are knives and axes there, too. Daggers," he answered. "And here are the stables. This way."

"Okay," I chirped as we approached another building, a wooden one. It had a smell coming off of it that I identified as animal, but not like wet dog. It was clean animal, like my Grampa's cows just after he mucked out the barn. My stomach churned in anticipation. I was going to see pegasi! Pegasi! I liked horses anyways, since they were gorgeous animals, so it was doubly cool.

"I don't know much about the pegasi, so if you're interested you'll have to ask Silena," Luke told me as we rounded the corner.

"Silena?"

"Beauregard." Luke looked around as we rounded the corner, as if he thought the girl might actually be there. And who knew? Maybe she was. "Daughter of Aphrodite. You'll know her when you see her." I nodded in agreement. I undoubtedly would. After all, she was supposed to be gorgeous, and I basically knew what she was supposed to look like anyways. It wouldn't be hard to pick her out at all, if I needed to.

Silent Beauregard. Silena the spy.

Silena who was manipulated into causing the death of her own boyfriend and probably a few others. Was Silena evil or just gullible? Weak-willed?

We turned the second corner and I nearly melted from excitement. Standing in the separate stalls were some beautiful horses with shiny, sleek fur and strong bodies. Some of them snuffled and whinnied at the sight of me and I saw Luke grinning out of the corner of my eye. This seemed incredibly out of character. Why would he care? I am not special. I am not special. Luke was supposed to be a counselor, but I didn't remember him spending so much personal time with Percy.

That being said, Annabeth was a counselor and she'd showed Percy around. Or would show him around. So maybe I was just overreacting a little.

Not all of them actually had wings, and I noticed that the vast majority that didn't were solid-colored and lithe, whatever that meant. It probably indicated what breed they were, but I wasn't that much of a horse buff. I rubbed a small pale-brown one between the eyes since it was the only one I could reach, but Luke coughed to get my attention. "I thought I'd take you here since a lot of people are sort of comforted by the horses. I guess the Minotaur didn't exactly set you up for an easy transition, huh?"

I paused. I'd been afraid, but I definitely hadn't faced the worst of it. Of course, I didn't really regret that. I feared that further involvement on my part might have sparked some issues. What if I'd somehow gotten myself killed or kidnapped, or worse, both of us? That was the risk to this. It was in a far more subtle way than with Percy, who had a prophecy looming over his head, but I had the fate of the world resting on my shoulders. So… honesty? I didn't really do much, but I have plenty to worry about, or… "Yeah. It was…" I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "... it was alarming."

"Sorry," Luke apologized. "An attack like that definitely makes for a rough first day." I tried not to look skeptical, because I knew he really was sympathetic. Speaking from experience, are we?

"'Snot your fault," I mumbled as the horse backed off, apparently put off by my sudden change of mood. "Bad timing," I added in an echo of my earlier statement. "Anyways, it could have ended a lot worse."

"Yes," Luke conceded broodingly, "it might have."

The horse clearly had no intention of coming back. "I'd like to get my bag now," I said. "Please."

Luke nodded. "It's about time we head that direction, anyways." _What's the rush?_ Since I wanted to go, though, I said nothing but set across the strawberry fields at a brisk pace. The world, I kept thinking, the whole freaking world.

Needless to say, I made the short remainder of our walk back to the Big House quite awkward.

What can I say? It's a natural talent.

"Thanks," I said, waving at Luke as I approached the door and glancing back at his face, which was pensive and funereal. Then I hurried up onto the porch. He didn't follow me. I noticed that he'd seemed in a bit of a rush to start my training. Now I knew how Percy felt. According to the books, he'd hardly been given a day to recover after waking from his mini-coma. And he'd played capture the flag only the day after, too. At least I'd be getting four solid days of activity before doing anything like that.

I thought about the fact that I'd (possibly) stayed in karate and hoped I'd be able to pick up on some kind of MMA fast. I didn't take kindly to losing and knew I'd have to practice my skill in terms of hand-to-hand eventually. No way could I allow myself to be beaten to a pulp each time I dared approach the mat. How embarrassing, especially since I was already doomed when it came to sword-fighting. If a twit like Clarisse managed to beat me too many times, I'd -

Well, I'd not stand for it.

 _Mischievous streak_ , I noted. _Maybe I'll be stuck in cabin eleven after all._

I wandered into the infirmary, where I figured Grover would be waiting. Honestly, I was just glad that I didn't have to round the porch to the pinochle table. I liked Mr. D but I wasn't sure if I could tolerate his sarcastic nature at the moment.

Sure enough, the satyr was sitting dutifully by Percy's bedside (wearing no pants, which might have been way more unsettling if not for the shaggy fur covering them). He looked a lot happier than I'd expected, holding a box in his hands and staring dreamily out of a window. "Hey, Underwood," I greeted. "What went right?"

His attention snapped immediately to me, which was sort of shocking considering how out of it he'd looked. What was even more shocking was that, if anything, he looked even happier at the sight of me. I very nearly fled. "Amara! The Council is seriously considering awarding me my searcher's license!"

The two of us were hardly even acquainted, which made conversation very difficult for me, personally, but I was sure that wasn't why I very suddenly felt woozy. I blinked a few times. "Cool."

"You know what that is, right?" Grover asked, probably not understanding why I was less thrilled than he was.

"Uh… searching for Pan?" I asked blankly. Oop. Probably shouldn't know that yet.

Grover, however, was not at all bothered. "My entire family has done it! It's… it's tradition. And no one's ever come back, but I… I have a good feeling."

"For good reason," I answered, smiling at him, and he grinned back even though he couldn't have a clue of how serious I was. "I was told you had my bags?" I asked, and he nodded, picking the hefty-looking thing by the straps and handing it over. It wasn't at all as heavy as it looked, so I carried it easily. "How's Percy?"

"He's woken up once," Grover replied. "He's mostly exhausted."

I hummed in reply. If Grover had anything else to say, it was too bad, since I'd already walked out the door.

* * *

 _Sorry I didn't update on the fourth like I should have! It's my fault. I totally forgot. In return, I'll be posting a second update... today._

 _(Also, I want some action. How about you?)_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

"This," I noted, "is heavy."

It seemed a little more than heavy to me; it was oddly balanced to the point that I couldn't quite bring myself to hold it the proper way. My fingers kept slipping out of place and I couldn't correct them, even though I knew that would have the hilt blistering my poor fingers. Not only did it feel wrong in my hand, but it was too long and it was taking some crazy abdominal strength to keep myself balanced. I tried adjusting the placement of my palm. Success level zero.

"Yeah," agreed the Hermes girl who'd agreed to help me a little before my actual sword-fighting lessons, I was fairly certain that her name was Miranda, but had long since decided to keep quiet about it since I wasn't entirely sure. "But it's a training sword, so they have fewer sizes than the ones in the armory. Actually, your best bet is to get a Hephaestus kid to forge one for you as soon as you can."

"How?" I asked curiously. After all, what could one of them really want with me?

"Well," Maybe Miranda began, looking deep in thought, 'it's a lot harder now. Used to be kids would go out and gather Celestial Bronze for them, but nobody's been on a quest in years. It's not so simple anymore. You'd have to ask one of them."

"So it'd probably be something more like an IOU?" I asked, hefting the blade. "The promise of a favor?"

"Right, but that's even more difficult since you're unclaimed," she pointed out. That was beginning to feel like a swear word now, but I nodded. It made sense, At the moment, I had no strengths to exploit. And unless I was claimed sometime before the end of Percy's quest, by some miracle, I'd probably be leaving camp with a weapon I could barely even use. Things weren't exactly looking up. "Got a nice grip now?"

"Sort of," I answered, eyelid twitching.

"That'll have to be good enough," Maybe Miranda decided, looking me from head to toe. "Remember than in a real battle you might be wearing armor thrice the weight of that sword." My head bobbed on my shoulders. _How could I forget?_ I thought miserably, shuffling in my place. My center of gravity was near perfect if not for the hulking sword. How could anyone fight with them?

"We wear armor for capture the flag, yes?" I asked, wondering if I should practice with that stuff on, too. After all, other than capture the flag, I'd be wearing armor very little until I was sixteen or seventeen. I couldn't imagine having to lug the stuff around without any practice, but it was also so far into the future that I failed to see the necessity of it.

"Yeah, we do," she answered, still glancing over my stance as she circled me, looking for any flaw an enemy might exploit in battle. "There's technically a no-maiming rule in place -" _Technically?_ I knew Clarisse joked that she'd only lose her dessert privileges for slicing Percy into little pieces, but… _technically?_ "- but sometimes accidents happen. It's just a good precaution to take."

"Okay," I replied, already beginning to debate whether the game was important enough to put myself through grueling extra practice.

"The best way to learn sword-fighting is also the riskiest way," Maybe Miranda intoned from my side. My eyes narrowed. What did she mean, exactly? "You probably wouldn't understand if I explained it to you, but I'd try anyways… except -" I heard a sliding noise that I knew must have been her sword coming out of its sheathe as she disappeared behind me. "That's not my style."

Almost instinctively, I turned, raising my blade to parry the blow…

And fell in a heap on the ground. Maybe Miranda clucked her tongue disapprovingly, giving me a shit-eating grin from above. "Try again."

I picked myself up slowly, but she didn't even give me an instant to recover. My instincts called not for fight or flight but for evasion, so I ducked neatly and sidestepped, postponing my doom for a good half a second. I felt a rush of energy going through my body, but it turned out to be a normal, momentary burst of adrenaline. I blocked another potentially deadly swipe and managed to keep my balanced for nearly three seconds before falling again. I half wondered how badly bruised my rump would be.

My body automatically bounced back to its feet in the same movement I'd used against Mrs. Dodds, made more difficult due to the equipment I was holding. Still, though I was wobbly at first, I somehow regained the mockery of balance I'd maintained earlier in order to block two strikes to my unprotected abdomen. After the second strike, I took an unstable step back, and in seconds felt something hard and with a lot of force behind it slam into my side, I fell again, but this time I'd really had the wind taken out of me and stayed down, wheezing, sword knocked into the dust. I rolled onto my hands and knees. I was unprepared to get up, though I may have anyways, had I not felt the sharp side of the blade slicing into the pale skin of my neck.

"It was a nice first try," Maybe Miranda offered, she removed the cool metal from the side of my neck. I was sure there was a thin, red line there, marking the spot where I might have been beheaded, but it was only a slight sting. I wouldn't complain. Besides, this way there was no audience to watch me fail. "Obviously you'll be better of if you can track yourself down a decent weapon, but I think you're stuck with training swords until Friday."

"Awesome," I replied. I was sort of pleased that I hadn't pulled a muscle yet, though my fresh pair of clothes was _already_ dirty. I probably looked like I'd been rolling around in the dirt during a sandstorm.

What was concerning was that M wasn't exactly a master swordsman, but she was still kicking my ass. If I ever went up against someone with actual skill, I'd be screwed. So even though I felt slightly less sick to my stomach, the only thing I'd really learned from the beatdown was how I _would_ hold a balanced sword versus how I had to hold this one to imitate balance. I also knew how to fall without breaking my wrist, but I'd known that before, from rollerskating in gym class. I kicked the dirt disappointedly. "Don't look so down, kid," Miranda ordered, glaring at me. "We all figured this out eventually."

"Except the dead ones," I muttered, one of my bursts of melancholy sneaking to the surface.

"Don't say that," she snapped. "I didn't come here so some newbie brat could waste my time. I came here out of the kindness of my heart, which won't last much longer if you keep crying to yourself. So get to work."

She wasn't smirking anymore, and I noticed that our drills were suddenly a lot harder.

* * *

My muscles were sore. Throbbing.

I could tell that they'd been used plenty before, though they had lost some of their muscle mass while I was at Yancy, but they hadn't been used in exactly that way before. Parts of my arms and sides that I didn't even know existed burned, like I'd hit a bee's nest with a weedwacker again. (Long story. Let's not get into it.) I kept moving, though, since wandering around camp would probably postpone most of the soreness until I went to bed.

I was sort of bored and making a point of avoiding the cabin area, since I sort of feared facing the Ares cabin. Call me a coward, but would you want to bash heads with Clarisse and her cabin mates? I had a feeling that, if first impressions went badly, I'd have to watch my back for the (short) remainder of my life. Better just not to make any impression at all.

So I was dragging my feet, kicking up dirt, and waiting for the dinner bell (horn? I wasn't sure) to sound. I'd trained for hours, so even though I usually skipped breakfast and lunch anyways, my stomach was _killing_ me _._ I was so hungry that I could practically hear its discontent. Actually - _grrooowl_ \- drop the 'practically'. I sort of felt like I was about to kick the bucket. It was only good that there was no food smell to tempt me.

I noticed from a distance the the Apollo cabin, which had glowed golden in the morning before dying down to copper, was now an odd, light-colored wood. It had probably been like that all day without my noticing. In contrast to the other cabins, though, its pale color was a fitting sun in the sky. At the thought of the sun, I looked up. I'd always sucked at telling time like that, but it looked like it was probably around six or seven. Between my awkward early-morning tour, my awkward talking with Luke, and my awkward sword-fighting lessons with Miranda, time had _not_ flown. But if it was that late, then it was high time for dinner, and so time to head back to cabin eleven. If I didn't head into the mess hall with the cabin, I wasn't sure what would happen; if I'd get into trouble or have to skip the meal. I wasn't sure that my empty belly could take that.

So I dragged myself slowly up to the cabin. I was especially reluctant because I felt that, somehow, by willingly going to 'my' cabin, I was making the night come faster. The night when I'd have to sleep in a room full of smelling, snoring kids with light gleaming in the windows and the hard floor putting knots in my back. I also knew that with every minute that passed, the closer it came to my first official sword-fighting lesson, which was to be tomorrow afternoon (I thought that was shortly before Percy would wake up).

Also, I didn't yet have a sleeping bag.

I rejoined the cabin basically unnoticed. I'd counted; not including me or Luke, since neither of us planned on staying long, there were twenty-four people in the Hermes cabin. Percy would make twenty-five, but he'd be transferred to cabin three by Saturday morning. So really, there were only twenty-four, and a good half of them were unclaimed. Probably even more than that. It was pretty depressing, but I didn't dare mention it. Besides, why would I want to? I was one of them, and I wasn't particularly given to optimism.

Apparently, my sense of time was right for once, because shortly after I wandered into the cabin and leaned quietly against the wall, I heard a horn blow from outside of the cabin. I recognized the sound specifically as a conch, but only because I'd heard them in movies before. _Food,_ my stomach said, and I felt a sudden surge of sympathy for Grover.

"Okay, cabin eleven," said Luke, "you know the drill." Everyone filed out of the cabin en masse, but I noticed that they all seemed to be forming a neat line as they advanced on the mess hall. There didn't seem to be any particular order, since some of the oldest-looking kids were near the back and a couple of twelve-year-olds were in the middle and the front, but then Luke called out, "In order of seniority," and I shuffled to the back.

 _Hurry up. I'm starving._

Luckily, we were in the mess to chow down on some unusually appealing Ballpark hot dogs, and Luke pointed to where our table was for my sake. I wasn't really sure why the segregation between cabins had to be a thing but shrugged. Again, I wasn't going to stick around. I had a plan to adhere to - a fluid one, but a plan anyways - and I was planning to get enough training to up my chances of survival, then get the heck out of Dodge. Things in camp were going to be pretty chaotic over the next couple of years, and though it was still safer here, I didn't want to be stuck in one spot and possibly get caught in the snares of some terrible prophecy. Of course, the idea that I could avoid the Oracle was stupid, but I couldn't help it.

Soon, it was my turn to make an offering.

It may have looked odd that I knew exactly what to do if I hadn't been the last one in my cabin to do it, but the instant I got to the fire I put a whole hot dog in it. It sort of hurt my soul, but I figured that there was no sense in fattening this body since the other me had left it in tip-top shape. I wasn't really sure who to dedicate the hot dog to, but then I remembered that sacrifices were used not only to honor gods, but to appease them. _Hades,_ I thought as I watched the hot dog burn away before tossing in a chunk of hot dog bun for Hermes. He was my patron, after all. For that moment.

I sat down and ate slowly, savoring every taste since I'd thrown out nearly half my food. I didn't talk to anybody, but I knew that people were staring, though none of them were from the Hermes cabin, They'd already gotten used to the idea of me, but I'd made myself so scarce that the other campers probably hadn't even gotten a glimpse of me yet.

I could only put it off for so long.

I'd been a loner for as long as I could remember, so if someone tried to haze me or something, I'd be dealing on my own. Whether I was capable or not remained to be seen. I was pretty sure that if my Apparent Karate Experience kicked in (no pun intended) I'd be able to at least defend myself, but I still didn't feel like placing my bets against an Ares kid. It would probably help deflect some of the attention from Percy if one of them pulverized me, but I wasn't that selfless. I thought that I was probably better off remaining an inconspicuous figure in the background for now.

As Fate(s) would have it, things didn't work out that way.

* * *

"Hey." I turned. Standing behind me, in the middle of the arena, was Will, the same guy who'd tended to my shoulder. "Didn't I tell you to take it easy?"

 _My shoulder._ It didn't even hurt anymore. Was that something I could do? Heal really fast? I remembered the excruciating pain of having my shoulder put back in its place in grim detail. _Could that really have faded so fast?_ "I - uh -"

"I guess that if it was going to dislocate again, it would have by now," he said sternly, fixing his gaze on the dummy behind me, "but you should still listen. Besides, Luke will probably be working with you tomorrow, and he's the best."

"Is that what you tracked me down for?" I asked coldly, thinking of how quickly the children of Apollo would come and go in the next few years.

"No," he chuckled. "I wanted to let you know that your friend's been in and out of it all day. There's another hour until curfew, and if you stay in the infirmary until then, you may catch him awake."

I paused, grimacing. I only wanted to get back to my training. "Percy and I aren't… really… friends."

"... Oh," Will paused. "Well, I'm sure he'd still appreciate knowing you came in to check on him." I was pretty sure that Will was a little younger than me, so out of pride, I sort of wanted to ignore his advice. "It's good for a demigod to have a few allies."

And I knew he was right. Of course he was. But chaos seemed to follow Percy wherever he went, and I hadn't needed to deal with that problem as of yet. If Percy was my ally, cursed with the scent of the sea in his blood, he'd only be harmful to me outside of the borders of Camp Half-Blood. That being said, I'd always loved Percy. How could I resist dropping by to make sure he wasn't half-dead anymore?

So I did.

Percy was sweaty. Like, really sweaty. I could tell he was stinking up the whole room, and wondered if that wasn't why Grover had cleared out. Also, Annabeth was right. Drool covered half his pillow and even more of his face. I took a napkin and stretched out my arm, a look of disgust tainting my features as I dabbed it up. "Gross." I sighed, throwing the tissue in the garbage. "Percy, you're such a slob."

"GRUugckrrrrrugh," replied Percy, eyelids flickering.

"Lucky me," I said, raising an eyebrow. "You're awake."

"UhMMMmmffaaaaauh?"

"Sort of," I conceded. "Nice to see you're not dead. I owe you one."

"Ammmmughfuh…"

A few moments of silence passed. I knew it wasn't Percy's fault, but I hated gibberish. "Later," I said with a wave of my hand when his half-lidded, unfocused eyes flickered back shut, like he'd never been awake at all. And really, he hadn't. I shut the door firmly behind me and ran as quickly as I could manage to cabin eleven, slowing only when I reached its door. When I opened it up, like magic, Connor and Travis Stoll were _right there._

"Just on time," said Travis. "We couldn't find you a sleeping bag."

"It's fine," I said dismissively. _Like I'd sleep anyways._

"I did find a blanket and a pillow, though," offered Connor. "We would have grabbed you a toothbrush, but you probably have one in that huge bag of yours."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Thanks."

"Are you really shy or something? We here in the Hermes cabin don't bite."

"Why don't you decide for yourself," I muttered tiredly. I was still a little shy. Ish. But saying it out loud… that's just setting yourself up for a world of awkwardness. "Really, thanks."

"No problem," Travis intervened before Connor could say much of anything else.

That night, I wrapped the blanket around me like some kind of a burrito, with the pillow between my back and the wall. I spent most of the night staring though the crack in the curtains and eyeing the twinkling stars in the pitch black sky.

* * *

Only twenty-four hours before, I'd practiced sword-fighting for the first time. Maybe the Fates decided to end the day-long period with an even bigger bang, because by three o'clock the following day, the Hermes cabin and one newish kid from the Ares cabin were packed into the arena for practice. And, obviously, I got paired with Luke, since, as my counselor, he really felt it necessary to ease my introduction into the world of gods and monsters with a bruised, battered body and much humiliation.

I'm sure his intentions were pure at heart.

He started off by helping me pick out a training sword. The Ares kid picked one that he looked pretty familiar with, but Luke actually gave me a different blade than Miranda had. It was a little better - a little shorter but also too light. You know when you pick up a baseball bat in PE, but it's no light and you just know it isn't the right one? It was like that, except that particular sword was really the only option I had. I wondered if it was even possible for me to win a fight with the thing but shrugged it off. The most important thing was figuring out how to apply what I already knew to a different, unfamiliar weapon. I even had to change the position of my hands, listening carefully to Luke's every instruction. He wasn't a good guy, but he was a good swordsman. No way was I going to just pass up on his advice.

"Good," Luke said as I stood in a way that felt rather awkward without the heavy weight of my weapon from before. Of course, if I was wearing armor, the problem would be solved entirely. "Try not to be so tense. It'll slow you down."

"Okay," I said, loosening my muscles and realizing that he was exactly right. In karate, I'd always been told to bounce a little on the balls of my feet, since that made me ready to make a fast, sudden movement without much hesitation. Of course, that particular method wouldn't work now, but the point was the same. Tense muscles cause jerky, slow movements. Jerky, slow movements mean you're screwed.

He then proceeded to give me a few pointers that were very familiar, but with more detail. Apparently Miranda was basically reiterating exactly what Luke or maybe Chiron had said to her at some point rather than speaking based off of her own experience. I wasn't going to complain about it. At least I had six hours experience to use to my advantage. It did keep me from getting completely humiliated. I owed her a thank you.

"... that's right," Luke muttered after demonstrating how to uniquely parry about half-a-dozen different types of strikes, and I managed to semi-reproduce the first two. "Keep in mind that, even though I'll teach you all I can, someday you'll have to trust your instincts. You'll develop your own style, and it will probably be different than mine. That doesn't mean you're wrong, but you'll need to be careful to weed the useless from the good."

He was obviously suggesting that I'd be leaving camp someday, and I was - sooner than he expected, I'll wager. After all, I knew monsters were brought into camp on occasion, but looking around, I noted that there weren't really different styles - just variations of the same. In other words, he predicted that, in the outside, I'd have monsters on my ass more often than not. Way more often than I'd see them in camp, anyways. "Really?" I asked interestedly, and he must have realized why I couldn't seem to look away from the other campers.

"We'll talk about that more later, Amara," he said. "For now - practice."

And so resumed the constant drill of _attack parry parry parry attack parry_ because Luke was about a million times better than I was. My arms and legs sort of felt like they were going to fall off and walk away, and my core muscles stung with effort. Additionally, tugging up the loose, long sleeves of my shirt revealed a spattering of red bruises, some of which were already fading to a dull blue-violet. I hadn't broken any bones, but I had yet to participate in hand-to-hand yet. I cringed. _Yeah, I won't be doing that at all._

Besides, I had something more important to do. As I recovered in the shade of a tree several yards from the rest of the forest, I realized what time it was.

Any minute now, I could bump into Percy as he toured Camp Half-Blood.

I stood up, stretching my sore arms, and wondered where Percy would be about now. I figured that if I headed from cabin eleven and in the general direction of the Big House, I'd probably bump into him if he was up yet. In terms of time, the books were pretty vague. Maybe he was still playing pinochle with Mr. D. Maybe he was already with the Hermes kids. Maybe he was still hanging out by the volleyball courts.

I was becoming more aware of the ache in my limbs, particularly my thighs, with every step forward, but didn't stop. I was pretty eager to meet him and move on with the plot already. Maybe it was unwise to be so impatient, but I just didn't know what else to do. I was catching on to sword fighting much faster than I'd expected, so I was getting a lot more comfortable with the idea of getting in on the capture the flag action or any other action, for that matter. I hadn't foreseen myself warming up to everything so quickly. _Maybe I'm just… shocked?_

I stumbled over thin air and glared up into the sky, squinting at the bright light of the sun. I was exhausted, much more so than the night before, but I couldn't exactly crash now. The last thing I needed was to be known as the epitome of sloth. Given my habits in my old life, I would be a lot more than just 'known' as it - I'd literally fulfill the role if I allowed myself to get lazy.

"P-Percy!" I called as I noted the telltale duo of a girl with curly blonde hair and a raven-haired boy in the distance. Sure enough, they were just heading out of the cabin area.

Percy looked up in surprise, like he'd expected the events of several nights ago to be a dream. Then he looked sad, confused, and a little angry. _He would be upset; he probably thinks I knew about all of this beforehand. And I did, but I'm not gonna tell him that._ "You're here," he said, his voice sounding flat. "Why?"

"You could sound a little happier to see me, you know," I chided, and then motioned at Annabeth. "Who's this?"

"I'm Annabeth," she said, staring me down with startling grey eyes whose exact shade seemed to adjust a few times, like the shifting clouds in the midst of a storm.

"Pleasure. I'm Amara," I told her, my eyes glittering with interest as I stared her down from head to toe. Her skin was golden, more like a suntan than Percy's natural one. She was definitely pretty strong-looking too; she was lean and not buff, but but muscular.

"I know," Annabeth said, returning the favor and apparently finding nothing worth insulting at that moment.

"Amara, why are you here?" Percy asked, interrupting our talk. "Why were you here two nights ago?"

"Why do you think I was here, Percy?" I snapped. "Think about it."

"You…" He paused, frowning, like he couldn't quite make himself say the words. He didn't quite believe it all himself, after all. "Are you a demigod too? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We weren't exactly best buddies, Jackson," I reminded him, narrowing my eyes. _I knew he was going to do this, but geez… I don't like it. It's like he's blaming me for everything. I tried to give him hints. I tried to save his mom._ "Not to mention that I just found out myself. Gimme a break."

"Sorry," said Percy quietly. That was such an incredible trait - he was so easily repentant. How did he apologize so easily? Every time I had to say sorry, it was a fight for me. Even if I knew I was in the wrong, I'd do anything I could to get out of it, and then days later regret that I didn't just swallow my pride and apologize. Maybe that was my fatal flaw. _But is it really fatal? Must be something else._

"'Sfine," I told him. "You just lost your mom and you're probably shocked about all this." I swallowed. "I'm… sorry I couldn't do more to help you guys out." The words came out in a rush and then to a sudden halt, like the water faucets in my school back home.

"Well!" called out a girl's voice, rough and little husky. "A newbie. _Two_ newbies!"

I swallowed as Percy looked in the direction of the voices. "Well, shit."

* * *

 _And here's your second chapter! Looks like we may have some action coming soon..._

 _Here's the deal. I'm not sure when I'm available to post the next chapter, so I can't give you a date. Instead, I'll post the next chapter when I get nine reviews._

 _Sorry for any vanishing formatting. FF Doc was being a butt._


	10. Chapter 10

_FleurSuoh;; you don't have to anymore!_

 _Fifty reviews. I have the coolest readers ever._

 **Chapter 10**

* * *

I had known Clarisse and her cabin mates were going to be ugly, but I hadn't expected that they would be that ugly.

Scratch that. They weren't _ugly._ It's my opinion that ugly people are hard to come by. They might not be gorgeous, but everyone has at least a little beauty to them, and so did Clarisse and her sisters. It wasn't that they were _ugly_ ; they just weren't attractive to me. Or something.

All of them had rough, dirty looking skin and sort of blocky features. Now, I knew workout bodies weren't always unattractive on women, but these weren't workout bodies. These were 'I lift seven billion pounds' bodies. They were so muscular that it looked unhealthy and unappealing. They all had big foreheads, and Clarisse in particular had large, pretty eyes that were too close together. Like Barbie's eyes on Ken Shamrock's body. All of them wore the same kinds of clothes: a lot of camo. At least they made one good choice in life.

Annabeth sighed frustratedly, like those who looked to me to be formidable foes were really nothing more than minor annoyances. "Clarisse. Why don't you go polish your spear or something."

One of the girls in Clarisse's posse was sizing me up. She must have been at least two years older than me. I instantly pinned her as a bully. "Sure, Miss Princess," said Clarisse when I looked back at her. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

" _Erre es korakas!_ " Annabeth threw back at her. I knew what it meant already: go to the crows. I'd never been entirely sure what it meant, but I had a few guesses. Crows are scavengers and the Greeks placed a lot of importance on burial and funeral rites. Annabeth was probably suggesting that Clarisse could go die and be eaten by birds, which would probably hinder her descent into the afterlife and be considered a great dishonor. Basically - _Go to Hell._ "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse swore, sneering at her. But I could see the girl's uncertainty in a few telltale signs, like the flickering of her left eyelid and how her eyes darted away while she was speaking. "Who're these little runts?"

I frowned at her. She knew both of our names, especially Percy's. Fighting the Minotaur made you sort of notable in any circumstances, especially here at camp. "I'm Amara. And this is Percy Jackson. You lead cabin five, don't you? Children of Ares," I hissed softly.

"Like… the war god?" Percy asked.

"Problem?" asked one of the girls in the background. She had a higher pitched voice than I expected. A very sickly sweet voice.

"Since you introduced yourself so nicely," said Clarisse, baring her teeth in something that was probably intended to be a grin or a leer, "I'm Clarisse La Rue." She held out her hand. I could see the callouses on it from my spot a couple yards away. I had a feeling that if I took it, she'd judo flip me. You know, throw _me_ to the crows. I stepped forward.

"Amara," warned Annabeth.

I slapped it away.

She snarled. "How'd you recognize me? You shy, you little sissy? You've kept yourself pretty much hidden."

"She probably recognized the smell," replied Percy in my stead almost immediately, and in about half a second he was by my side. _Wait! This is my chance. I can settle this dumb rivalry before it's even begun._

Clarisse growled. It was a gross, wet sound, like she was getting ready to spit. "We got an initiation for newbies, Prissy."

"Percy," he corrected spitefully.

"Did you mean, 'We _have_ an initiation…'?" I asked, smiling. _I'm stupid. Stupid and dead,_

"Excuse me, you little punk?" Clarisse snapped, focusing her attentions on me. Annabeth sighed in the background.

"You're excused," I told her gracefully, standing my ground. "I was just wondering if dyslexia could affect basic grammatical knowledge. It hasn't for me, so I'm guessing it has something to do with IQ."

Silence. And then: "I think you can get in on the initiation, too, _Amara._ " She said my name like it was a curse.

"Clarisse -" Annabeth started, but Clarisse cut her off.

"This punk thinks it can handle itself," she interrupted. "Stay out of it, wise girl." I knew that Annabeth was ready to protest, but I glanced back at her and then pointedly at Percy. Her lips thinned.

I began to follow Clarisse. I heard Percy begin to follow me, but then he grunted. "Hey!"

"This is her fight, Percy," Annabeth said. She was wrong. It was supposed to be Percy's, and I had the nastiest inkling that I wasn't supposed to interfere. I still wouldn't have done anything, but before I could even think of if, Clarisse grabbed me by the hair. I groaned and sped up as she began to pull, walking me towards a cinderblock building in the distance I could have identified even if I hadn't already known where we were headed. I put up a little bit of a fight for show, though I really did want to start fighting for real, but she put me in a headlock.

As soon as she opened the door, it was like a reverse vacuum effect. There was a gust of hot, humid air, and it sort of smelled like a drying cow patty. I retched. Clarisse snorted. "What a priss. Too real for your refined tastes, punk?"

"Too bad," said one of the other girls, snorting like a pig.

The girl with the high pitched voice giggled, "She'll be tastin' a 'ole lotta somethin', alright!"

My stomach turned. I knew they were gonna stick my head in the toilet, but suddenly I wasn't so game for it. I began to struggle a little more as we got closer to the stalls, turning my head towards Clarisse's elbow to loosen the headlock. Luckily, she interpreted the move differently. "She really can't take it!" she announced ecstatically as we drew closer to the toilets, some of which were encrusted with dirty yellow and green stuff I didn't want to think about. Her friends snorted gleefully. "You think you know everything, right? Little nerd like you must've had plenty of swirlies. Maybe you even like them, punk!"

I managed to pull myself out of Clarisse's headlock and almost instinctively elbowed her in the gut, turned, and sent a side kick soaring just above her solar plexus, near her diaphragm. She made a choking sound and flew backwards. Unfortunately, I did too. I couldn't have had a worse landing. I would have rather hit the divider between the stalls and broken my ribs, but instead I crashed through the unlocked stall door just two feet behind us and my back slammed neatly into the raised toilet lid, while my butt slid onto the seat. The germaphobia within cried out. I knew those seats were probably disgusting and stood up right away. "Uh-ulp," I said(?).

"You freaking punk -" Clarisse yelled, heading straight to me.

As if on cue, two other steps of footsteps rushed into the bathroom. "Percy, wait!" called Annabeth.

"Leave her alone!" shouted Percy, both bravely and stupidly all at once.

"Get him too!" yelled Clarisse. "I think he wants to take a dip!"

"You're insane!" I screamed.

Clarisse lifted me by the hair and I screamed some more. It hurt. I could see a couple of the girls escorting a struggling Percy to his own stall (read: _torture chamber_ ) and the one with the high pitched voice holding Annabeth in place. Then, Clarisse put me down and locked the stall door, trapping the two of us in the obnoxiously small space. "I'll drown you, punk!" She must have been having an adrenaline rush, because when she grabbed my neck this time, I lost ground as she pushed my face towards the toilet bowl. I was powerless to do anything but slow my imminent doom.

Suddenly, there was a strange rattling sound, a rushing noise, and then a scream. Clarisse let me go, and I put my hands on the toilet seat to stop my face from falling in. I quickly realized what was happening and then I, too, ran out of the stall after her. Clarisse was too busy yelling at the two ugly friends who _had_ been holding Percy to stop me from darting into a shower stall and closing the curtain to protect myself from the water. I peeked out. Sure enough, a forceful stream of water was hitting one of the two girls in the face.

Clarisse seemed to get what was going on right away and darted into Percy's stall. The rattling noise started again and the showerhead above me came on. The water was cold but I only squealed. _I'd rather be in here than out there._ There was more roaring and the spray of toilet water splashed of of the walls and shouting girls and onto my shower curtain.

The shower curtain was the translucent kind that was pretty much useless because all it did was blur the details of the shapes inside and outside. So I watched the fuzzy shapes of the girls get pushed out of the bathrooms by _toilet water._ Toilet. Water.

If I wasn't there, I probably wouldn't have bought the story.

Well, I would have, but only because I'd also been yanked out of my old world and placed into a new one.

The explosion of water stopped the instant the girls were out the door and just as rapidly as it had started. I hesitantly stepped out and into a puddle of water, cringing at the splash that occurred as a result. "Percy," I said before I could even think about it, "what a pervert. Rushing into the ladies' room like that."

Apparently both Annabeth and Percy were too numb to be impressed by my attempt at humor. Annabeth was dripping with toilet water. Luckily, she wasn't going to be smelling like pee for the rest of the day. The fact was that the toilet water itself wasn't the gross part, the toilet was. I knew that, and I therefore knew that my hiding behind the shower curtain was irrational, but I felt cleaner all the same. "How did you…"

Percy stared at Annabeth for several long moments, struggling for an answer. "I don't know."

"Do you think we can go outside without becoming victims of a double homicide?" I asked Percy, glancing pointedly at the door. Being the idiot that he was, he nodded and boldly stomped outside.

Annabeth and I followed more slowly as we had a healthy fear for a pissed Clarisse. I reached the door and began to push it open, but felt Annabeth's hand encompassing my wrist. "Why?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"They would had left you alone," she informed me, almost clinically.

"Oh," I said, and then paused in thought. "Oh. You could call it… an act of defiance." Annabeth looked confused but I opened the door, and we joined Percy in watching the Ares girls' retreating bags as Annabeth shivered in a sudden gust of wind.

* * *

"Let's try wrestling," I said to Percy, sweating gloriously in the sunlight and doing as much as I could to burn stress over capture the flag in the evening.

Percy looked at me like I'd grown a few extra limbs. "Are you kidding me? Clarisse is over there." He was right. She was formidable on the mat, easily overtaking almost anybody who dare challenge her in less than a minute. With each fight, the would-be wrestlers around the mat seemed to diminish more and more. Now, there were around four potential challengers, one of whom looked like he was disputing his presence there when Clarisse snatched him up as if he was a fly caught in a spider's web. The poor dude looked completely terrified.

"Exactly," I told him.

"What?" Maybe I really _had_ grown an extra head or something.

I shook my head. Percy wasn't stupid. _Surely he can figure this out himself._ "If you can beat Clarisse, you can beat almost anybody." It was a total lie. Percy wasn't going to beat Clarisse and neither was I, and even if we did, Kronos and Clarisse weren't on the same ball field. Fighting her had nothing to do with fighting her; it had far more to do with gauging the skill I'd seemed to inherit from this me even when I no longer had her mind. It was odd. I'd been able to use routines I'd never learned in my old life, but I also had none of this life's memories. I wondered if it had been done purposely. I also wondered just how far this training had gone.

Still, Percy knew nothing of his own future and seemed to decide my point was valid. "Luke said I should try a little of everything."

I watched the boy from earlier getting pummeled. "I'm sure he didn't mention Clarisse."

"Backing out so early?" Percy asked with a cheeky smile.

"Shaddup," I replied snappishly. "Let's go." I heard Percy snort as I speed walked over to the mat. _Stupid shit,_ I thought, scowling back at him as I watched the boy limp off of the mat. The other challengers began to argue about who should go first. "I'm gonna go," I whispered.

"But what if I want to get it over with?" Percy asked. He, too, looked less than eager.

"You had your moment of glory earlier," I pointed out. Empowered by water or not, managing to knock the sword out of Luke's hand was impressive.

"You call that a moment of glory?" he asked, blushing. "He destroyed me every other time. In front of everybody!"

"Uh, yeah," I answered. "Definitely glory."

"Beginner's luck," Percy told me.

"But still glorious," I told him.

Just then, Clarisse seemed to fix her beady eyes on us. She grinned widely before setting eyes on Percy, who immediately balked under her hostile gaze. "Hey, punk! Wanna fight?"

"I do," I said calmly. Clarisse seemed pretty surprised. I'd definitely given her the impression that, while I did have an ounce of strength to my name, I was also easily overpowered and intimidated. While both of those had some level of truth to them, they had been at least partially exaggerated thanks to my bad acting. I at least had the guts to want revenge on her for trying to give me a swirly in the first place. Besides, the worst she could do was beat me up a little bit. As far as I was concerned, this was nothing more than an experiment with reasonable risks.

It took a while, but Clarisse finally managed to regain her meager wits. "You think you can beat me? You're pathetic."

I said nothing. I certainly _felt_ pathetic, looking at her burly body, but she didn't need to know that. Instead, I wondered whether or not to take off my shoes before stepping onto the mat. There was the risk of contracting athlete's foot if I took them off, but if I kept them on and happened to kick Clarisse, she could be seriously injured. _Priorities,_ I reminded myself.

In the end, I kept my shoes on.

When I got onto the mat, I pulled myself into my typical fighting stance with my fists guarding my jaw. This station was technically the wrestling station, but I had pretty much gathered that everything from wrestling to karate to capoeira went on over here. Clarisse specialized in something that I couldn't really name, but she relied heavily upon her size and body weight. Somebody larger than her would definitely have a chance, but I was definitely not her size. I'd have to get my advantage some other way.

"Fine, punk," she grinned. "Bring it on."

It was almost funny how she challenged me to challenge her and then proceeded to run at me. Apparently she was planning on charging me quickly enough to catch me off guard and pin me immediately. Probably by my throat or somewhere else deadly enough to scare me. But I wasn't going to allow myself to go out that early. _I won't let myself be humiliated again._ I sidestepped her, inspired by Sally's sidestepping-the-Minotaur move, and sent a round kick slamming into her exposed ribs. I heard her grunt and was, for an instant, satisfied. But then I noticed her exposed back and grinned evilly. It was mean. Too mean. And probably didn't bode well for my character or the longevity of my life.

But that experience that I hadn't experienced kicked in and I jumped, sending both feet flying into the center of her lower back. I wasn't sure if I'd hit my mark, but if I did, she'd be pissing blood the next few days. Wherever I got her, it had her howling. I landed neatly on my feet and she crumpled, holding her stomach like she was getting bad cramps. "You… you…"

"Beat you," I finished, walking off the mat. The fight was brief and I hadn't achieved my more important purpose, but I was pretty sure Clarisse wouldn't want a rematch. _Not today, anyways._ I thought that, in a longer fight, I might have run out of luck. Was that my weakness? Time and stamina?

"I'll kill you," she gasped. "You punk." Luckily, there was almost nobody around for her to be too embarrassed, so I wasn't all that concerned that she'd carry out her threat. After all, she already had Percy to take care of. I winced. Yeah, that would be fun.

"Let's," I said, and then paused, staring out at the very few people who had seen the fight, "not talk about this. 'Kay? It's your turn, Percy."

Percy bravely stepped onto the mat. If he was anybody else, I'd say that he probably didn't want to be outdone, but Percy was different. He probably didn't know how to follow that. He nicely waited for Clarisse to rise. Unfortunately for him, she looked even angrier than usual. I frowned. Apparently she'd decided to let him act the whipping boy. Arms crossed, I watched as Percy put on his own fighting stance, a little tenser than was necessary. He probably knew that he was about to die. He shot me a glance, as if to make sure that I was still there, and then threw a punch. It was actually decent, except that he probably should have twisted his hips a little more, but in what was an unfair fight from the start, that didn't matter.

Clarisse grabbed the poor kid's arm straight out of the air. In reply, he sent another punch with his other arm. He was unbalanced so it wound up being a useless effort. Half a second later, he was basically thrown across the mat. I could hear him bouncing as he rolled, and then Clarisse pinned him down like it was nothing. I could still see the pain in her beady, doll-like eyes, but I didn't smile. No need to make it worse for Percy.

She started to kick him off the mat, but a spectator jerked him out of the way and onto the ground. "Time to split, kid," was all he had to say before Percy and I hurried off to another area, one of us cringing painfully as we walked.

"That was amazing," he complimented.

 _Duh._ "It wasn't that great," I replied, staring off into the trees.

"It was at least as good as what I did during sword-fighting lessons," he protested.

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll be back."

Percy looked alarmed. "You're leaving?"

I didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but I'd never been a social butterfly. How was I supposed to explain that I couldn't be his friend, and even if I was willing to risk being around someone so powerful, I'd not be around here for long? I wasn't stupid enough to think that was okay, but I also didn't want to lead him on. My mouth opened and closed, probably making me resemble a fish out of water. "I…"

"You dragged me over to wrestle," Percy said, frowning at me. "Now you have to come to archery with me. It's a fair trade."

"Life," I told him, "is not fair, Percy. Otherwise you'd let me go with thanks. You know, for the sweet payback I just gave Clarisse."

"Huh?"

He was such an innocent. Didn't he know what kidneys were? "Nothing. I'm off to the climbing wall."

"The one with lava?" Percy raised his eyebrows, like he wasn't quite sure I could handle that.

I glared at him. "Is there any other rock wall, you idiotic shithead?"

"I thought you were _nice,_ " Percy complained, "or shy or something."

"Or something," I told him. He snorted. "See you at dinner."

"What if I come to the rock wall with you?" he asked. _Am I acting too old? Does he think I'm his big sister or something?_ More than likely he just wanted a human he already knew to follow around. Percy was still confused. He'd only woken up the evening before. Percy wasn't shy but he was probably having a rough go of it.

"Go hassle Grover," I told him, irritated. I could be totally bipolar in some ways, even in the life I so missed. One second I was happy to have people around and the next I despised everyone, wishing only to be left alone. Right now, I pretty much just wanted to not be smothered, even if it might mean getting roasted and/or crushed to death.

"Is that it?" Percy asked. "Am I bothering you?" He sounded almost hurt but also unsurprised. This was exactly the same stunt I'd pulled after Mrs. Dodds. It must have been pretty obvious to Percy that if we were ever going to be more than close acquaintances or distant friends, it would be a long time from now since I apparently didn't want it to happen.

"A little," I told him, "but you shouldn't take it personally. I feel bothered by almost everybody."

"I noticed," Percy said, and I snorted. He wasn't stupid - keeping up the conversation as an excuse to stay at the climbing wall was definitely working.

"Percy, I have a feeling you should be training," I warned in an effort to get him to go away. "You aren't as socially inept as I am so you don't have an excuse for following me aro - _wait._ " I turned slowly to face Percy, who was grinning sheepishly. "Isn't your first lesson with Annabeth supposed to be happening _right now_?" She was supposed to be teaching him Ancient Greek, which was vital to any half-blood. I'd been attending lessons taught by Luke, who was so shockingly intelligent that it actually made me very uncomfortable.

"I don't like reading!" he protested, scratching the back of his neck.

"Dammit!" I cried. "She's gonna slaughter you."

Percy looked left and right in a sudden panic. "Really? I -"

"Do you not get how important this is?" I asked. "Gods. You're an idiot. A dead idiot. Annabeth's gonna be mad." _Either that or she'll just roll her eyes at him._ "This isn't like skipping an English lesson back at Yancy. This is crucial."

"I didn't know," Percy said, sounding disappointed in himself. _Stop being so mean. He's only twelve._

"I'm sorry," I sighed, biting my lip as I forced out the words. "Let's head to the Big House. Maybe we can convince Annabeth that I held you up." I actually hoped that didn't work. I had a healthy respect for Clarisse, but I feared Annabeth a whole lot more. I could take some brawn, but Annabeth wasn't weak, and she was brainy on top of that. I really didn't want her pitted against me. I mean, I don't consider myself a dimwit, but her mother is the goddess of friggin' battle strategy. I was pretty sure I wouldn't stand a chance.

* * *

Needless to say, Percy left the Big House with a nicely sized lump to prove Annabeth's annoyance. Apparently she'd lectured him too.

I raised my eyebrow, as if to tell him, _I told you so_. He hit me in the face with his pillow. "What were you expecting?' I snapped, shoving him roughly backwards.

"I wasn't expecting her to hit me on top of the head like that," he complained. "And when we finally started the lesson, she would randomly ask about the summer solstice deadline or something." He paused. "Do you know anything about it?"

"I-" I scratched at my throat and swallowed a lump that seemed to be forming within it. Time to tell the truth? A twisted version of it? Or a flat-out lie? "A little."

"Really?" Percy asked, relieved. "You'll tell me, right?"

I glanced over at the people on the other side of the room. They were gathered around a couple of people who were probably showing off something they'd stolen. "Not now."

He seemed to see what I was looking at and nodded. I've said it before, but Percy isn't stupid. He's just a little slow on the draw sometimes. He was definitely a little disappointed that he couldn't be filled in right then. It was understandable, to say the least. I would have taken it way worse than he did. That being said, with a crowd like that, I literally _couldn't_ say anything. Besides, he'd know everything he _really_ needed by the crack of dawn tomorrow morning.

"Looking forward to capture the flag?" I asked conversationally. It wasn't my element, and somehow my seemingly friendly tone sounded like nails on a chalkboard. When had I become such an excellent liar?

Percy shrugged. "I guess."

Neither of us really were. I mean, I knew how it went and I also had this horrible feeling that wearing armor would suck, and Percy didn't even know exactly how it was played yet. There really wasn't much to look forward too for him, even discounting the fact that Clarisse would beat the shit out of him. But he'd also be claimed. What did I have to look forward to? Sitting around in the wood and waiting to get stabbed? I tried to think of it like hunting, but I couldn't imagine that armor would help me in terms or stealth. "I think it's going to go terribly," I announced.

Percy stared at me, green eyes piercing. Maybe he was trying to decide whether I was serious, or maybe he was just thinking that I should shut up and let him calm down before being so - "What a pessimist."

"I call it realism."

* * *

 _Our third update in two days, wow! (: This chapter is a little more action packed, so I hope you guys enjoyed it. There's a lot more like this to come, and VERY soon, too!_

 _Now, here's the deal. I'm scheduling the next update for next Friday. That's June 17th, okay? And instead of posting a chapter early in return for reviews, I'm going to set up a larger scale goal to work towards. When I reach 100 reviews, I'm going to do something big. I don't know what it is yet, but I was thinking something like introducing other characters' POVs or allowing you guys to make a big decision via a poll. I want you all to pick what the 'reward' is, but I want some suggestions first. Feel free to post them as reviews or PM them!_

 _Lastly, I'm now attempting to reply to each reviewer individually, but I do want to thank_ **Krazyfanfiction1** _for faithfully reviewing_ every freaking chapter. _Seriously. You're awesome!_

 _So, now that we've established that I'm a review whore, I'm out! Hope you all are having awesome summers!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Sorry it's been so long since I posted a chapter. I've had a hectic summer, to say the least._

 _Also, someone mentioned the lack or googly-eyed romance in their review. Just so you guys know, I may or may not have any romance in this story at all, so let me know how you all are feeling as the story goes on (keeping in mind that I'm a pretty big Percabeth shipper (; (;). Your feedback is really appreciated. With that being said, I draw the line at a couple of kids still wet behind the ears falling hopelessly in love with eachother, even if my OC is_ technically _around sixteen._

 **Chapter 11**

* * *

"I'm going to die," I whispered to myself as my ribcage struggled to contain my heart. Fortunately, it had the help of a huge metal breastplate, so its panic was pretty much contained. My fingers tugged on a loose strap on the ancient shin guards (give me a break. How was I supposed to know what they were called?) and I decided that I would wear armor as little as possible from now on.

Speaking honestly, I couldn't have been more displeased with the fact that it was time to play capture the flag. I had somehow convinced myself that I was fine with it the day before, but the more I thought about it, the more anxious I got. I mean, the woods were stocked with monsters that could attack us and we had the Ares cabin and their allies on top of that. We were also using real weapons, which for some reason didn't strike me as a good idea. I mean, I realized that wooden swords wouldn't do the job because the material was so different that it wouldn't really prepare us for a real fight with real weapons, but seriously? I was willing to bet that people had died playing these crazy games.

Not only that, but walking around in the armor was a real pain. The stuff that covered my torso wasn't nearly as bad as what I'd imagined. For some reason, I'd given myself the idea that it would be suffocating, like a corset. And if you have the image of breast armor running through your head right now, get rid of it. Girls wear almost exactly the same armor that guys do. Sure, there was a little extra space around my chest area, but it was still one smooth piece, not showy boob plates. This wasn't dressup - it was battle. But what really bothered me was the shin guard thingies and how they felt on my knees when I walked. Also, every time they rubbed against the tops of my sneakers, it was such a weird feeling that it sent a chill up my spine, sort of like when my socks rub together.

I also had a sword that Malcomb from the Athena cabin had brought to me. It wasn't perfect but it was a lot better than my training sword. It was Celestial Bronze so it sort of glowed the way they all did, so I was pretty glad to have a leather sheath to put it in. The light coming off of the blade would probably compromise me no matter what position I was ordered into. It was a heavy weight on the right side of my waist and hung along my left leg and hip. The helmet was a considerable weight as well. I felt as though my neck might well give out under the pressure of supporting my helmet-leaden head. Overall, I was pretty sure that I had just doubled in bulk. _This is definitely going to take some getting used to…_

I could see Annabeth talking with Percy a few yards away. Oddly enough, I'd barely talked with her at all. Probably because she didn't think I was _the one._ "Luke said this is for you," I heard somebody say, though I couldn't see them behind the massive shield they were holding. My mouth went dry. _Am I seriously supposed to lug that around?_ I grabbed the thing by the top and turned it around so I could hold it properly. The thing probably had more surface area than my entire armored body, and when I lifted it, I almost toppled over. Luckily, my arms had always been strong, even when I was a lazy watcher of Netflix. At least my forearm didn't fail me. Since I held my shield with my left hand and it was a way bigger weight than the pull of the sword on my right side, I now felt unbalanced in an entirely different manner. _Awesome._

"Amara," Luke called, and I turned slowly so that I didn't fall and get crushed from my armor. He smiled at me as genuinely as anybody ever had. "I want you to stick around the woods behind Percy and stop any red team member that gets past him. Try to keep yourself hidden." I swallowed. Great. _Of course, I'd get put around Percy. Looks like I'm in for a world of pain._

"Yessir," I answered with all of my normal formality. He got that same smug look he always did for a moment.

And then it was gone. "Remember, Amara," he said as he turned his back, "the woods are stocked."

Maybe it's not as creepy to you as readers as it was to me when it happened, but I felt like every hair on my body was suddenly on end. Was it a threat? A warning? Whatever it was, it successfully reminded me that the Ares kids weren't my only enemies right now. I knew I'd be on high alert throughout the entire game simply because of that single comment. With a sharp inhale, I faced the woods, and as the conch signaled the start of the game, I followed Percy along the creek.

For a way, I stayed directly behind him, even taking care to stay in the footprints he'd left in the muddy bank. But I saw him slowing and turned into the woods, following him as quietly as I could manage with the bulk of my shield and armor. Even walking the way my dad always taught me, I could still make out my own quiet footsteps. The foliage probably kept the ground from drying completely from whenever it was actually allowed to rain in camp, and every time I lifted my foot, the damp earth made a nearly inaudible popping noise. It was unbearably hot, especially with all of my equipment.

I stopped shortly after Percy did. He was in front of me and to my left with about fifteen yards' distance between us, so he hopefully wouldn't be bothered by any noises I made. I stopped by the trunk of a tree and, after a moment of inspiration, pushed my shield facedown into the mud to conceal its slight luster, and then I leaned it against the base of the tree. As quietly as I could manage, I climbed it, until I was high enough to make out any clearings within a football field.

Percy was standing peacefully by the creek. A few blue-plumed allies whipped past him. I opened my mouth a little, as I'd heard it helped one's sense of hearing and smell. I could taste old much and fresh air on my tongue. The wind blew a few strands of hair out of my helmet and whistled through the trees. One of the plants nearby must have bloomed flowers, because there was a slight, sweet scent that reminded me of lilies or rose hybrids. It was suddenly covered by a musty, rotten smell, more like fish trimmings left out in the sun than moldy pizza sauce or old fruit. I frowned and scanned the underbrush. I couldn't see anything - _so where's that smell coming from?_

It wasn't until I noticed a slight chilling of the air and heard a low, rumbling growl that I realized what it was. I winced; the sound seemed to echo throughout my head. Percy was turning wildly at the creek. I clamped my jaw shut and began my descent down the tree. My veins were probably rushing with adrenaline, and even though I hadn't slept in a week, I felt more awake than I had in days. My feet touched the ground and I lifted my shield, hurrying in the direction of the noise and away from the sudden explosion of sound at the creek. I was supposed to be interfering only with those that managed to get behind Percy, and at that moment, there were only two of us. Me…

… And a hellhound straight from the Fields of Punishment.

I didn't remember the growling from the book, but that was probably because it became a pretty inconsequential detail after Percy was mobbed by half of the Ares cabin. It sure wasn't inconsequential now. I unsheathed my sword quietly, though I could hear the quiet sliding as I freed it of its casing. The further I got into the hellhound's territory, the more I noticed. The rotting smell was quieter, and the only sound I could hear was Clarisse and her pig friends splashing about. Even that was gone completely after a few more steps. There were no sounds of life: no crickets; no leaves brushing against limbs and the living as they fell to the damp, mucky forest floor; no breathing. It was a total, disturbing silence.

It was oppressively muggy out, so much so that even the water in the air carried the clear taste of decay as the stench grew stronger. I halted and turned to my right, my left, and behind me. There was nothing but the odor. I followed it a few more steps. _How can something so foul have such a pull?_ I stopped again, having reached a clearing, and my breath caught.

The hellhound had to be the most unobservant thing I'd ever seen. Thanks to my effort for silence, it had taken me probably a minute to thirty feet through the woods. To my credit, I couldn't see through trees. But it should have smelled me and it didn't. The dog, vast in its size, just continued its slow advance on its prey. _Percy._

The hellhound wasn't key to Percy getting claimed and having his quest. His identity was realized before then, when the water helped him to recover from Clarisse's attack. I knew that if I killed that hellhound, nothing would really change. And it would be a good chance to gauge my skills with help nearby, just in case. The idea of failure was embarrassing, so I stopped even considering it. _This is a good test of skill, period._

I placed the bottom of my shield down so that I still had it at my command but no longer had to support its weight. There was a chance I would need it. Even as the dog crept out of the clearing and through clusters of trees, its image was clear; lithe and skeletal, but somehow more intriguing than terrifying. Possibly because it was apparently too stupid to notice me standing there. I picked up my shield and waited until the creature began to pass a group of bushes. My heart was going at it so hard I was sure I'd vomit. I didn't step on a twig or crunch on a leaf or even breathe. In a flash, one of its back legs fell cleanly onto the detrital floor. In another instant, as it fell, my sword suddenly illuminated the light of the forest. I sliced along its belly, nearly losing my balance as my sword caught onto a rib. I fell onto my hand, shield, and knees, sword a foot away on the ground, into a soft, squishy pile of black muck melting into the ground. My adrenaline rush was not yet complete and I pushed on my shield to force myself up.

Lips twisting, I giggled, struggling to lift the remaining paw with my free hand. I'd been trying to disable it, but I moved faster than I imagined possible in my effort to kill. The way things went I needn't have tried.

A crushing force from out of nowhere nearly knocked me into my own sword. For a moment I grappled for it, then finally locked my fingers around the hilt and held my shield over the soft parts of my body. A familiar shadow descended upon me, one not unlike what I had killed mere moments before - except that it apparently wasn't stupid.

I couldn't bring myself to scream.

I raised my shield, intending to get up, but a huge weight settled on it. I gasped as the thick, heavy material gained a circular dent. A claw as long as my finger pierced through it.

You always hear about moms seeing their kids trapped under cars in an accident and then lifting it up without any struggle at all, but there's no way to really grasp the concept. My muscles twinged in protest but I felt almost nothing. My eyes were wide with fear and then anger. I shoved and the hellhound flew almost weightlessly, toppling into a tree and then darting to the creek as I rolled onto my feet. The wind seemed to rush, cold and unfriendly, into my ears, and before I even realized they were moving, my feet came to a sudden stop, the impact shooting through my body with a jolt.

The hellhound was on Percy.

Someone cursed.

Chiron shot it.

I breathed again.

Two of them. There were _two of them._

Luke.

And what if there were more? I felt as if my energy would never run out, but it would have been stupid to try to run off from the group with all that chaos going on. They would probably suspect that _I_ summoned the hellhound.

Chiron trotted up to Percy, who now had Annabeth by his side and a torn, bleeding chest. It was gruesome to look at, but I knew his injuries would not remain for very long. By tomorrow morning, he would be in cabin three. In a few days, he wouldn't even be at camp anymore. His injuries would not disable him at all. I probably didn't have as much sympathy for his pain as I should have. Still, I looked away, glancing up at Luke. He was holding the banner. Our cabin would be leading the teams the next time we played, but he wouldn't be a part of it. He looked forlorn and downcast. It probably had something to do with the fact that, once again, he'd been forgotten.

" _Di immortales!_ " cried Annabeth, staring down at Percy with wide, shocked eyes. But they also held some of the curiosity you'd expect from a scientist. From a child of Athena. "That's a hellhound," she said, "from the Fields of Punishment." _Correction:_ was _a hellhound. And there would have been two of them. You're welcome._ "They don't… they're not supposed to…"

I'd never thought about it before, but hellhounds apparently died in a very different way that other monsters. Not only that, but they were apparently too dangerous to be a part of the 'stocked' woods. I made a mental note to avoid them.

"Someone summoned it," Chiron said, and then, like that wasn't bad enough, added, "Someone inside camp." Luke had hurried over and even tossed the coveted banner aside to help Percy off the ground. The younger boy struggled up, holding his chest but without complaint, staring at the banner on the ground and then at the disappearing body of the hellhound. He almost looked like he was sorry, which made me want to hit him. _Be selfish more often, brat._

"It's all Percy's fault!" screamed Clarisse. I rolled my eyes, and a few people looked disgruntled and annoyed. The Ares kids were unpopular anyways, but that was ridiculous. "Percy summoned it!"

I couldn't help myself. I was too high on energy and too pissed to keep my mouth shut. "Are you stupid? Shut up." A few heads turned my direction and Clarisse glared at me, but that was the end of it. I didn't even get scolded by Chiron. _Awesome._

There was a long silence, during which most people watched the hellhound corpse sink into the ground. I wondered why nobody else was making a face or had a twitching nose. Didn't they smell it? A smell like hot, decomposing meat? A smell ripe and foul and suffocating? Wasn't it so strong that it slid down their throat in a sour, nasty slime? It was taking my all not to choke.

"You're wounded," Annabeth told Percy. I frowned. I was sure he knew that. And did she really have to do this in front of the entire camp? Couldn't she foresee that it might bring trouble or attention Percy? I loved Annabeth, but for such a clever girl she could be really stupid sometimes. Or maybe it was just insensitivity. "Quick, Percy, get in the water!"

"I'm okay," Percy argued. Maybe his helmet would have hidden his face if it hadn't been knocked out, but he looked openly as if he was dreading something. He already knew that the water would heal him, but he wasn't eager to show it off.

"No you're not," Annabeth snapped. _Ah. I see it now. This isn't stupidity or insensitivity. It's selfishness._ As far as she was concerned, she'd found the one. _Her_ one. The same special dude she'd been waiting on for years, even if he wasn't exactly what she'd wanted or expected. With Percy, she'd get to go outside. With him, she'd go on her first ever quest. Test all five years of her training. This was the fulfillment of Annabeth's dreams and she was just trying to speed things up a little. "Chiron, watch this."

Percy looked resigned and took a slow step into the left. The last piece of his armor, which somehow managed to stick, fell uselessly to the ground. As the campers began to close in on him, I fought my way to the front. I gawked at him like he was some kind of freak show, but it was freaky, even though I'd known it was going to happen. Through the tattered remains of his shirt, I could see bloody, crimson wounds drying up into raw pink lines. The color faded even more as cells grew over the wound at top speed. There were ugly, lumpish scars that grew smaller and smaller until there was nothing. It was incredible. Super-healing. _Awesome_. I was a little jealous.

Just as Percy began to really perk up and look strong and uninjured again, my eyes were hurt by a glow so sudden that it was almost blinding. I swallowed as the other campers gasped and looked right above his head. It was a bright green 2D hologram of a trident, which was technically nothing more than a specialized spear, but had still gained notoriety as the symbol of Poseidon. It hung over his head, fading, as Percy tried to explain himself. "Look, I - I don't know why -"

"I do," I whispered as he began to apologize. He met my eyes and looked up. Even after seeing the last of the trident, he looked confused. "Percy, your father just claimed you."

"This is really not good," Annabeth muttered as we all began to kneel. I knew not all claimings would be this was, but this… this was big.

"My father?" Percy asked, the picture of bewilderment.

"Poseidon," Chiron proclaimed as I stared at the ground. Now was when things really got going. "Earthshaker. Stormbringer. Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God."

Let's just say that the next few days passed quickly.

Luke continued our Ancient Greek lessons as if he'd never given me a cryptic, hellhound-related warning. Or at least that's what I thought he was doing until the end of that first lesson after the game, when he stopped me from leaving the room and then beamed down at me. "Thanks for all the hard work," he said, and at first I was just mildly unsettled - because didn't I always work hard? Later, though, I wondered if he'd been talking about our lesson at all.

It was early on in the next week by the time that anything else happened. I'd spent the whole day at the wrestling mat, pushing myself far beyond my old limits and discovering that I had a rather wide range of skills relating to that particular brand of the arts. Everything else? I was pretty average. But when challengers grew few and far between as the morning got hotter, I was forced to explore other avenues.

I stood awkwardly at the archery range, trying not to flush in embarrassment. I was doing… well, not terribly, but definitely not great next to the skill of the Apollo kids. Archery had never been my strength. I'd always been better off with a loaded gun in my hands, even if the buck sometimes left a sore spot in my shoulder. Still, I could hit a target fifteen meters away, even if it was never a bullseye. But the Apollo kids? They wanted better than that.

I was about half a second from chucking my bow into the dirt when Annabeth appeared out of nowhere. She sort of looked like she'd just had a lovely workout, but she wasn't sweaty at all. She just looked… refreshed and excited. We'd hardly even spoken so I assumed she was there for one of the Apollo kids. I kept hitting my target a little off-center. I wasn't getting any closer to the bullseye.

You know what they say about assuming?

"Amara," she said impatiently. "You're wanted in the Big House."

I frowned and let go of that final arrow. It thudded about half an inch from where I was supposed to be hitting, but it was nothing impressive. With a bow, I was accurate, but not precise. I tended to get arrows scattered anywhere within a five inch radius of the bullseye. "Yeah, why?" I asked, reluctantly giving my bow to one of the instructors. I'll admit, I went straight to the very worst conclusion: this had something to do with Percy's quest.

Unfortunately, Annabeth had already set off in practically a sprint, leaving me to worry on my own. After all, even if it had nothing to do with Percy, it could hardly be good. I chewed on my nails. I kicked the dirt. I stared off into the distance. I walked slowly. But I felt that I was only delaying the inevitable. No matter how long I tried to put it off, it would happen. After all, here there were the Fates. Was everything predestined here? Or was something besides those three controlling me?

I seemed to reach the Big House way too quickly to suit my tastes. It was like time had shot forward just for me. _Thanks._

Percy, Chiron, and Annabeth were all around at the pinochle table. Grover was absent. I threw up a little in my mouth. Apparently, the situation was more predictable than normal this time around. After all, what other time had they all been there together? Only when they spoke about the quest could Annabeth even stand Percy at this stage in the game. On top of that, I'd changed something. Grover was probably getting his searcher's license, which meant he probably wouldn't be going on the quest… "Amara! There you are, child," said Chiron.

 _No putting it off any longer,_ I thought, stepping onto the porch and sitting at the table with Percy and Annabeth. Percy wouldn't even look at me, where Annabeth was staring intently, like this was some sort of experiment to her. Seeing how the newbie would react to what was, essentially, a threat to her well-being. Fun. She nudged Percy with her elbow as I muttered a half-hearted greeting.

"Uh," Percy said, choking on his own words, "I'm, um, I'm going on a quest." He paused - _for effect,_ said my inner storyteller, though that wasn't true. He paused because he was anxious. I didn't like this either, but the kid needed prompting.

"Good luck," I wished him, deadpan, "but what does that have to do with me?"

He looked a little puzzled, then sad, and I felt sympathetic. I was showing him the same coldness I naturally gave off sometimes, but he probably related it more to his claiming than my general attitude towards people. "I… if you'd like to come with Annabeth and me."

The words came out in such a rush that I could barely make them out. When I did, I could think of a few inappropriate jokes I might have made if we weren't all under fifteen and Chiron wasn't there. Instead, I said, "That's an interesting offer, but why don't you invite Grover? Aren't you two close?"

Percy swallowed. "Grover got his searcher's license," Annabeth informed me without further explanation. It was like she was sending me a mental message. _I expect you to know these things._

 _Why? Think I'm smart because I'm bookish?_ "Oh."

"I know you probably don't think of us as friends, but you're the only other person in camp I'd feel comfortable traveling with," Percy said, apparently mustering the brainpower to speak again. At least I knew that what he was saying was thought out. "And we've worked together before."

"Sort of," I answered automatically. _More like he did all the work while I freaked out and tried not to die. I can't do that on a quest._

 _But I can't do that with any of my plans._

I couldn't believe I was actually considering this. It didn't fit into any of my plans at all. Not even a little. And it was really dangerous. Plus, I didn't just have normal quest risks on my shoulders. I knew how this was supposed to go. I was a new member of a quest that might as well have happened already. I wasn't a character that should have been a part of this. What if I managed to change something for the worse? As it was, I couldn't bring myself to see all this with Grover as a good thing.

"You don't have to come, but…" his voice trailed off. I'm not sure how he might have ended the sentence.

I raised my eyebrows. "You need me? I'll be useful? I'm not exceptionally good at anything and I'm new at this, just like you are. It would be advisable to ask someone with more experience." I nervously licked my upper lip. "Think about that."

"I have," he muttered. "There's no one."

That was it. Bingo. He just didn't trust anybody in the Hermes cabin and didn't know anyone else. "Okay. Fine. Now, not to be selfish, but exactly how risky is this? I don't want to think I'm a coward, but I don't want to put my guts on the line for a suicide run." _Yikes. That was not a thirteen-year-old talking._

"You're quite right, Amara," Chiron cut in, sounding almost relieved. It suddenly struck me how uninquisitive I probably seemed to him. Find out I'm a demigod, take it in stride. Get invited to an incredibly dangerous quest? Talk about why I'm invited rather than asking what the quest is. He was probably relieved that I was asking a question at all, because he surely didn't have any reason to believe I was suicidal. Unless… _is he glad that I don't seem to want to go?_ "This quest is exceedingly dangerous. It involves retrieving a god's symbol of power from another, and is especially dangerous because of the gods involved. It may be wiser to pursue more training. There will be other quests."

I'd always hated authority. I didn't defy it in huge ways - I preferred to go for more subtle 'screw you's. In this case, Chiron had almost nothing to do with anything, but I wondered if there was somebody behind him who wanted me kept out. _I would be safer at camp…_ I licked my lips and stood, placing my palms on the pinochle table and feeling distinctly uneasy. Annabeth looked disappointed and Percy, out of the blue, appeared to be lost. It wouldn't have surprised me if he started crying. Once again, I reminded myself that he was twelve. _So young._

"I'll go."

* * *

 _Zoinks, Amara. May be time to quell that rebellious streak. Your decision-making skills are clearly terrible :|_

 _Next chapter: the quest begins! If this chapter wasn't to your taste, the next one will be a lot better. I swear.  
Actually, everything I've written on the quest has been action packed so far. Sort of._

 _SO, here's my to-do list! I have some beta reading to do. I want to write at least two chapters of my rewrite of Temper and I want to finish chapter fifteen of this. Hopefully, I'll get some of Unsolvable written too. Also, school starts tomorrow. Kill me, please.  
In other words, I'm giving myself three weeks to post an update. (Update due on the 22, pinprick. Remember.) That said, every four reviews means I'll update one day early again. I'm glad to be home so I know I can actually keep my promsie._

 _See ya next chapter!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

* * *

It would be easy enough to say that I left camp without a single regret since I'd never been too keen on it anyways. Unfortunately, that wasn't true. Not to say that there were any waterworks, but the entire situation was shit.

I mean, I didn't have a weapon of my own until the next morning when we left and Annabeth took me to the armory. "Just pick something out," she told me.

Now, I was a demigod, but it still struck me that I was twelve years old. Think on that a minute: it'll really fry your egg. It's one thing to give a kid a weapon, but letting them go into a building full of weapons and telling them to pick one? It's outright nutty. Anyways, the point is that I was in there, surrounded on all sides by knives, swords, something that might have been a chain scythe, something that looked like golden string, circlets, and, more importantly, _guns._

You heard me, Camp Half-Blood had guns.

They looked pretty normal. I was a hunter, not a gun enthusiast, so I couldn't have pointed out any abnormalities if there were any, but they looked just like the ones that I used to kill Bambi with. I wondered what made them usable as demigod weapons, but then I was overcome with a sickening thought. Demigods had been involved in human wars before. None of them looked that old, but what if they were meant for killing people? Like, human people? I tried not to feel sick to my stomach. I knew I might have to defend myself against a mortal being some day, but I wasn't sure if I could really do the deed.

I stroked the barrel of the only rifle there. It was smooth and cool to the touch. "How would these work? Certainly celestial bronze isn't so abundant that adequate ammunition is easy to find." I'm sure I sounded weird. A lot of the things I said were what I called 'reading words' - things people may or may not understand in-text but never actually say - and even with that I often struggled to keep myself from sounding like an 1800s literary textbook. It's not like I was sesquipedalian, at least. Just… too formal. Still, the Athena cabin probably had its eccentrics and Percy was too nice for his own good, so no one I actually cared about commented.

"I think the bullets reform somehow," Annabeth informed me after a moment's thought, "sort of like how some of these knives are spelled to return themselves to their sheath if they get lost." _Like Riptide._ "I think if you take one of them, you should probably get something more suited to closer range combat, too."

"Of course," I said, still feeling somewhat relieved that the guns really were intended for monsters. Well, for use against them. I glanced over all of them and eventually settled on a shotgun with a sawed-off barrel. It would be terrible for accuracy, but I doubted I'd ever be far enough from an enemy to worry about that - on this quest, anyways. I checked the safety and then carefully pulled the strap over my shoulder, swallowing as I looked for another weapon. "I've heard that you've been anticipating this quest for a long time," I said absently as I picked up a shining dagger, which felt like dead weight in my hands. I put it back down.

"Yeah," Annabeth said, almost breathlessly. "Who told you?"

"Luke," I answered, grabbing a short sword and subtly glancing at her out of the corner of my eyes. She was a little flushed. If only she knew what her little crush would lead to in the future. I experimentally lifted the weapon but it didn't seem to fit. _Too bad Annabeth is too distracted to be helpful._ Finally, I gravitated towards an old, hard leather sheath and pulled out a nicely serrated blade.

It would work.

"Ready?" Annabeth asked. I took it as a rhetorical since I was literally walking out of the armory, and that's when things really started to go downhill. I sort of felt like I was being hit by the freight train of common sense. It was sort of agonizing, seeing reality - the reality that I was a demigod who was probably going to die young and in excruciating pain. Not to mention that I was about to get a taste of what the outside world meant to a demigod. Danger. Destruction. I was running into it exhausted. I had only slept in short, thirty-minute bursts about three or four times in the past week. There was no way I could be mentally or physically prepared for this in my exhausted state.

 _I'm going to die._

But for all I was thinking, I didn't break a sweat. I didn't _let_ myself. Maybe my muscles froze for a quarter of a second when I realized I might never live to find a way back to my family, but then I pushed forward, swimming through my own panic like it was just regular air. _Maybe I've gotten over this too quickly! I could be killed. I'm not so selfless that I'll risk my ass for Percy, even if I failed to save his mother and it wasn't even part of the plan to try and save her in the first place so I'm indebted to him…_

I knew I could save a lot of lives, maybe, if I blurted out everything I knew to Chiron right now. But I also knew that the Great Prophecy had been made and even if I did do something like that, bad things would happen and I had no way of knowing whether the effects would be positive or not. I didn't want to make myself an enemy of the Fates, anyways. What if they didn't want me to talk? I had no intention of being a puppet, but I had to consider that they could abruptly cut off my entire life with no trouble at all. And I knew the stereotype - I'd die and then wake up back at home just as I was. But what if that wasn't what happened? What if I died and stayed dead? What if I was forgotten in the Asphodel, stuck there for the rest of eternity, sitting quietly on the sidelines forever?

I tried to imagine how I would die. Would my skin ice over with cold, brittle rock or would Medusa tear my insides from my stomach first? Would Crusty stretch me out until my spine couldn't take it anymore? Maybe I'd die with the Chimera's poison rushing through my veins. Or maybe it would be something ordinary and shameful for a hero. Maybe I'd run away and be killed by a monster for my cowardice. Maybe Hades would incinerate me before I even had a chance to be a smartass. Or maybe I'd be hit by a car crossing the street.

Wouldn't that be funny?

By the time Annabeth and I reached the top of Half-Blood Hill, Percy was already there, staring in anticipation at the other side of the camp borders. I knew he hadn't let go of the hope that he could recover his mother, somehow. It would probably be best not to interfere too much with the goings on of this particular quest. Except for Luke getting away, the ending to the first book was ideal. I wouldn't be able to change too much, anyways, since the prophecy didn't leave too much wiggle room.

Chiron sat in his wheelchair by Percy. Whether he'd been offering reassurances or warnings was unbeknownst to me, but Percy looked disquieted. I could understand why. Maybe he was struggling with the same thoughts that I was. A huge, blonde, buff dude with windswept hair stood out of the way. I recognized a pair of extra eyes by his throat and looked away. Somehow, they made me nervous. Argus hadn't exactly been a protagonist in the myths, Maybe that was why. "This is Argus. He will drive you into the city and, er, well, keep an eye on things." _A hundred eyes, more like._

Just as in the books, anything Chiron might have said was cut off by heavy footfalls on the hard dirt of the hill. The mud I'd slipped on had long since dried up, but I could still lay my eyes on a few spots where I'd pulled up the grass. "Hey!" Luke gasped. I turned. He was sweaty and panting, but had a slight smile on his face. He was holding a pair of high top off-white Converses by the ankles, and walked them up to Percy. "Glad I caught you. Just wanted to say good luck." I knew he wasn't lying. He wanted our good luck to last until we reached the pit, and then he wanted Percy to be lost to Kronus. I almost shook my head at the thought, but restrained myself, devoting all my focus to maintaining my unaffected deadpan. "And I thought… um, maybe you could use these."

It was such a shame. Luke seemed like such a nice guy and probably had the potential to be a nice guy. It wasn't entirely the gods' faults, but geez - what could have been fixed with just a little attentiveness was astounding! But I knew that all of this had been a long time coming, and that, in spite of the casualties and horrors to come. Still, the effects weren't immediate by any means and the gods weren't always honest. Percy himself was living proof of that. So was it all even worth it?

"Thanks," Percy said, looking much more impressed by the shoes. Apparently, they'd done the wing thing already. Shame I missed it. Percy's cheeks were reddened. If he'd known what the shoes really were, that would have been for a very different reason.

Luke fidgeted a little. Maybe he was uncomfortable with the idea of becoming a murderer. "Listen, Percy… a lot of hopes are riding on you," he told Percy, his lips thinning for a moment. "So just… kill some monsters for me, okay?"

Percy looked like he was about to tear up. In this instance, Luke was definitely a good actor. I'll admit, I didn't really suspect him when I read the book. And without my prior knowledge, I wouldn't suspect him now. He was too friendly, too handsome, too believable, too kind to be evil. But he was. _Don't judge a book by its cover._ A saying that, really, doesn't apply to reality too often. But now it did. Though I wasn't sure when this had become a reality for me.

Luke shook Percy's hand. I noted that Percy seemed to have one of those handshakes that weren't confident but not weak either. Even so, his small white palm was swallowed up in Luke's confidence, and they parted with smiles. Luke's was strange, as though he was wishing him farewell, but not in the traditional sense. Farewell to death. And then he walked up to Annabeth, hugging her until her face had turned the purple of a Crayola red-violet crayon. I could hear him mumbling well wishings like "stay safe" and "you've been waiting for this" and even, jokingly, "don't screw up". I imagined that telling her not to die or to stay alive would actually be very insulting to a demigod.

And then he walked over to me. I was pretty big on privacy and personal space, and Luke was no idiot, so I got the same handshake that Percy did. I wish I could say that his grip was crushing, like he was trying to intimidate me because I was somehow a threat, but I was just a twelve-year-old girl and it was a normal handshake. He beamed down at me, blue eyes sparkling with camaraderie. I knew right then that he would have fooled me any day. "Good luck," he said simply, and I nodded, staring into his eyes and wondering whether I might catch a glimpse of smugness.

I didn't.

"You're hyperventilating," Percy informed Annabeth as Luke sauntered off.

"Am not," snapped Annabeth harshly, but she couldn't meet Percy's eyes. I held back a snort.

"You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn't you?" Percy teased good-naturedly. I sighed. The boy really couldn't take a hint, could he?

I cleared my throat to catch his attention. "Percy, you do realize you'll be sleeping in her immediate vicinity, don't you?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but Annabeth was already stomping off. It looked very childish, too. I'd never thought about it, but her antics were nothing more than a stupid temper tantrum. "Oh, why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?" she yelled in between muffled Greek curses. A car door slammed, which was followed by the clinking of Argus's keys hitting each other on the ring as he followed her down the hill. _I can see where I buried my money from here,_ I thought, and then looked back at Percy and Chiron.

"I won't be able to use these, will I?" Percy said regretfully, picking up the sneakers and eying them with something I identified as gratefulness.

Chiron shook his head He looked a little sad to disappoint Percy, but really, it was sort of important. The only reason Percy could even be on a pegasus was because they shared the same lineage. "Luke meant well -" I held back an ill-natured guffaw. "But taking to the air… that would not be wise for you."

Percy nodded, though he seemed a little saddened. Who wouldn't be psyched to get a pair of flying shoes? It probably seemed like such a tease. But this moment would save Percy's life. "Amara, do you want them?" he asked, looking suddenly enlightened.

I was a little startled. I felt a little greedy and over armed already. As ridiculous as it sounded, the shoes were a threat, but there was always the chance that they would come in handy. "I'll… hold onto them," I answered hesitantly, taking the shoes. I sat on the side of the hill and took my white sneakers off. (Yes, white. I always wiped off my shoes with Clorox disinfectant wipes before I went to bed, so they weren't muddy anymore.) As I pulled on the winged shoes, I noted that they not only fit perfectly but were exactly the same shoes I'd worn _before_ : off-white men's Converse hightops, since the Tenth Doctor wore them. I wondered when I'd next get to watch Doctor Who or Supernatural. I wondered if BBC's Sherlock had released season four yet.

I stood up, wiggling my toes a little inside of the sneakers and tensing my calves experimentally. They really did fit right; they were even broken in properly. I wondered what it would be like to try and balance in midair on just my feet and ankles. "Are you going to try them?" Percy sounded excited on my behalf.

I looked up. Both he and Chiron were staring at me, Percy grinning cheerfully, his eyes alight with anticipation. I swallowed, feeling my ears redden under their stares. I covered them with my fluffy hair. "I'd rather…" The cheer rapidly began to fade from Percy's eyes. He looked disappointed again. … _give them a test run on the go._ Why did I even care? "Okay. One time." Grin restored. It was like he was trying to split his face.

I stood at the top of the hill, bracing myself for a short run. I didn't know much about flying, not even planes, so I had the lingering idea that this wouldn't work out well. The short-lived flight began smoothly when I took a few bouncing steps down the hill and then said, " _Maia!_ " Maia was the mother of Hermes if I recalled correctly, but I wasn't sure what the name itself meant or if it was an actual Greek word. Either way, the magic word only kept me soaring above ground for a few seconds, after which I started to crash and barely managed to keep myself from falling boorishly into the dirt. Even so, as the heels of the shoes scraped against the declining slope and the wings withdrew, I brushed imaginary dirt from my pants.

"Perhaps some practice," Chiron suggested, eyes twinkling as I walked up the hill, panting with the little effort I'd put forth.

"That's so cool!" Percy cheered.

"Right," I answered, grabbing my bag and subtly leaving my shoes sitting in the grass. "I'm going to head to the car, if that's alright. Thanks for the shoes, Perce." And before anybody could say an extra word, I rushed downhill, hurrying to the white SUV. To me, it was only a shame that I'd miss Riptide. But I knew it wouldn't be for long.

* * *

"Hey, can I have one of those apples?"

I stared warily at Percy, narrowing my eyes. "Why?"

"I, uh, I thought that we could play a game of Hacky Sack?" he asked, beaming and stretching at his neck just above his hairline. Annabeth seemed pretty interested. I remembered; she was good at it. Of course, she'd be interested.

"With one of the fruits I spent a half-hour washing?" I asked. My eyebrows shot up in seeming disbelief.

"Uh… yes?"

"Fine," I said, unzipping my bookbag and tossing one at him. "But I'm not playing."

"Why?" Annabeth asked.

"I suck at it."

Cue awkward silence. After a very uncomfortable moment, Percy and Annabeth began playing.

I knew that we were going to be attacked, so I was a nervous wreck. Mrs. Dodds would definitely recognize me, but she wasn't after me. She shouldn't be, anyways. Of course, if Hades thought I was in cahoots with Percy, putting him in the invisibility cap wouldn't really help much. If that was the case, it would be best for me to sit more out of the way, in the back of the bus.

I drop of rain shot into a puddle and splattered the hems of my pants. I scowled.

The game of Hacky Sack was swiftly put to an end when the fruit bounced off of Percy's elbow into my temple, where it bounced again and rolled into the street. For a moment it was silent. My fingers brushed the spot of my head and I cracked a smile. Within moments, Annabeth and Percy were outright laughing. It took a while for their chuckles to die down.

"Once we get to LA," Annabeth mused quietly, "we'll have to figure out where the entrance to the Underworld is." Any cheer that had previously lingered in the muggy air was sucked away as suddenly as if by a vacuum. The only sound was of the rain thudding against our shelter and the pavement.

"Any ideas?" asked Percy. "I mean… LA's a big city."

:We'll probably have to ask once we get there," Annabeth informed him, seeming displeased that she was missing this vital information.

"Ask?" echoed my own voice, muffled by the drumming of the precipitation. "Ask who?" When Annabeth shrugged uselessly in response, I continued. "Maybe there's a place that's named after something Greek or Hades-related. We could do our research beforehand." It wasn't exactly rocket science. I just didn't see the need to be stretched half to death in order to find out where it was… although, honestly, I could have used a couple inches. _You're being ridiculous,_ I thought, absently rubbing the base of my spine.

We'd be on the news. I wondered if Ms. Ami would worry about me. I wondered if those marshmallows were getting stale in the cabinets.

Who even was Ms. Ami?

Suddenly, I heard the sound of the bus coming up. It splashed the ground with a torrent of dirty water onto the side of the road and even more splashed even more onto my sneakers. I was really annoyed, but then I heard a crunching noise. I looked up, where the destroyed remains of the apple were pure white against the asphalt. For a moment, it was quiet, and then Percy snorted. and we all boarded the bus laughing. "I'll sit behind you two," I said, trying to give my poor diaphragm to recover. After all, it seemed that my rapid switches in mood had come into action again; I knew, with a start, that _all three_ of the Furies were in line before us. I swallowed and nervously glanced over my shoulder, but since Percy and Annabeth were in front of me, the couldn't sense my nerves.

I slid into a place two rows behind them, trapped between the window and a man who, I decided, probably loved donuts a little too much. The bus smelled like a high school locker room: sweat, old socks, and public bathrooms. I kept my nervous eyes to my front.

When Mrs. Dodds boarded the bus, my heart leaped into my throat. Maybe she'd been forced to regenerate too quickly, because she looked even more ancient than usual. The wrinkles and lines of her face seemed deeper and darker, her eyebrows sparse and her hair grayer. The harder I looked at her, the more attention I paid, the closer she seemed to the creature that had attacked me. I could even see a slight glow around her chest, and when the man in front of her sat down, I realized that the flaming whip in her hands had probably been an ugly granny handbag. The bus now seemed to smell of old people perfume and nursing homes. I breathed shallowly to block it out as the triplet monsters - _there are actually three of them_ \- sat down and subtly blocked any chance of escape by sticking their legs into the aisle.

"Shit," I muttered, breath catching.

I'd known this was coming, but that didn't help by any means. _This is exactly why I didn't want to be here._ I sent a quick prayer up to Athena and Hermes and (down to, I guess) Hades and anybody else I could think of that this would _please work out_.

Maybe I would have heard Percy and Annabeth panicking together if the other passengers hadn't been talking, but I couldn't. Instead, I focused on developing my own strategy. Well, I say strategy… it's a strong word. I mean, Percy's descriptions in the books weren't all that vivid, so all I knew was that they'd walk towards the back of the bus and then make their attack. Killing them as fast as possible would be best, but unfortunately, my shotgun had to be reloaded every time I shot it. Still, I considered it lucky that I could use a shotgun in the bus at all. _Lucky thing celestial bronze doesn't hurt mortals._

I doubted that either of the remaining sisters would be paying much attention to Annabeth or Percy if I even managed to get the jump on them, which meant that I would then have to rely on the serrated knife. That was so up close and personal that I almost peed my pants just thinking about it. She'd run me through with those nasty claws or something!

I must have been hyperventilating or something, because donut guy was looking at me weird.

 _Now that I think of it, I'm not sure I'll be able to step over donut guy._

That might be… problematic.

I suddenly wondered how I'd been allowed to wander around with a shotgun on my back. What were the mortals seeing? A baseball bat? After all, only the barrel stuck up from behind my back, so the Mist didn't have much to hide. I had the sneaking suspicion that all would change when I started shooting.

The bus drove into a tunnel and the sound of rainfall diminished. The quiet was eerie and unwelcome, and it was suddenly very dark. Mrs. Dodds stood up. Her back was hunched. "I have to use the restroom," she announced to everyone on the bus, her voice bland in a way that I could often compare to my own.

"So do I," said her sister, standing up behind her.

"So do I," echoed the second.

To their credit, or maybe from it, the occupants of the bus did not react. Maybe they were all used to idiotic nutters with no filter. Maybe they all had kids.

They started down the aisle. I could hear the clicking of their shoes, perfectly in sync. I shoved my bag off my lap and crammed it onto the floor, reminding myself that my awesome clothes were in there and I would _not_ leave them when the bus blew. I casually slipped the shotgun off of my shoulder and into my lap. Donut guy was watching me closely now, but it was only out of the corner of his eye. I didn't seem to be attracting any other attention yet.

Two seats ahead, Percy's hair vanished into thin air. Annabeth had given him her cap, then. I saw her head turn a little and caught a glimpse of her profile, but she must have been too worried about the Furies to really seek me out. She turned back to them. They'd stopped momentarily in front of an empty seat, but were now continuing on to Annabeth. Dodds's eyes were set on her.

My heart was killing me.

The bus suddenly filled with earsplitting wails as what I'd had to try to see earlier became as clear as day. Mrs. Dodds and her sisters were withered hags armed with handy whips and long talons. I imagined the damage they could do with either of them and shivered.

"Where is it?" shrieked one of the sisters, snapping her whip. Donut guy's weight suddenly crushed into me as he tried to cower away from whatever he was seeing, but I shoved him clear into the aisle and lifted my ready gun, switching off the safety and firing.

I got lucky. Incredibly lucky. What was intended to hit Mrs. Dodds missed her by a long shot, instead peppering both of her sisters with celestial bronze birdshot. They screamed, as if in utter agony, and began to dissolve into yellow dust starting at the bullet holes. A lot of it landed on a middle-aged woman, who screamed and started to cry. Dodds yowled her discontent, and that's where I got less lucky.

As if Annabeth was nothing, Mrs. Dodds knocked her down and strode the aisle. Donut guy was whimpering and sliding his but across the floor and towards the back of the bus. The tourists closer to me seemed to be silenced, as though they couldn't find it in them to scream anymore. I felt my own courage vanishing and grabbed my bag, slinging it over my back and pulling it out of its sheath. Annabeth hadn't gotten up. _Dammit… I was counting on backup._

I knew that, with my current skill set, there was no way I would make it off the Greyhound.

I had no experience with knives. I was trapped, so there wouldn't be any awesome karate rolling to save me this time. Percy was presumably in the front of the bus, the driver was losing his shit, and Annabeth was KO'd. _If I hadn't taken the shot -_ "You," Mrs. Dodds said, her voice rough, like she'd shoved sandpaper down her throat. "You were with the spawn of the sea god. Where is it?"

I defensively raised my blade. "He's not here," I said, though I knew what she was talking about on top of where it was. I didn't want to set myself up. "Back off." I tried to sound intimidating, but I think she could probably hear my heartbeat and smell my fear. It wasn't working. She just stepped right into the only way out I had and bared her monstrous, dirty fangs at me. Maybe I should have made a comment about toothpaste for effect, but in that moment, I was lacking Percy's sharp wit even in times of duress.

"Your death will be p -"

Painful? Pleasing? Pathetic? There were a number of ways she could have finished the sentence but I didn't hear any of them. A minute the bus exited Lincoln Tunnel, it swerved so sharply that I flew into the side of the bus and even Mrs. Dodds was caught off balance. There was a loud metal-on-earth sound that seemed to echo, like the bus was skipping off the sides of the tunnel. I regained my footing too slowly to get out before the bus crashed into the side of the bus again. We were out of the tunnels, and the light hurt my head. _Am I concussed?_

I scrambled up as fast as I could and did the only thing I could think: I jumped the seats. The people in front of me were already curled up as low as they could get, but I still managed to trip over the back, and then my diaphragm was unfortunately impacted by the seats in front of those. I gasped, but rolled down into that row, where Annabeth was slowly rising up. "You're crazy," she said rubbing her head and grabbing her knife on the floor.

I was too busy trying to breathe to reply.

Then, I felt the entire bus spinning. It was like the world had turned into a top beneath my feet. If I was sitting, it would have been fun, but instead, I was tossed into Annabeth, who grabbed a seat for support as our stomachs turned. Then, for about the fifteenth time, but bus slammed into something. We'd spent more time on our butts than we had fought, but that didn't exactly detract from the experience. It was still terrifying, and it was stunning that the Fury hadn't killed us both already. The emergency lights came on and the passengers walked _straight over_ Mrs. Dodds. "... while she's down," I heard Annabeth mutter while I tensed.

Wasn't the bus supposed to explode or be struck by lightning sometime soon?

"This has to be a team effort," I hissed. "Let's get it done fast. I have a bad feeling." The problem was how sturdy Mrs. Dodds was. It seemed like the minute she was accessible, she was charging towards the front of the bus with the mortals. _Towards Percy._ "Crap. Double crap." We'd lost our opening. If it was as simple as attacking her from behind in that instant, Annabeth would have done it. But she had those huge, powerful bat wings sprouting from her back, each equipped with things that looked sort of like sharp, deadly claws on the end of each 'finger'. But even they weren't the real threat. Those wings could pin us to the bus. Smother us. Trap us. And if she moved them while we were close behind her, or decided to turn, the claws would be a threat. And after them, the talons. Overall, even her _back_ was a hindrance. And we _had_ to get out of this bus.

And then, like an idiot, Percy suddenly appeared in Mrs. Dodds's path. "Hey!" Okay, I got why he did this in the books; to save his friends. But apparently this time around, Mrs. Dodds had sniffed him out . Why else would she have hurried to the front of the bus like that? She certainly wasn't running from our pathetic attempts to kill her. If he'd stayed put or gone out with the mortals, we might have been able to take her out and flee.

But _nooo._

"Perseus Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said, her voice pleased, like she was looking forward to gutting him and probably Annabeth and me too. "You have offended the gods. You shall die."

"I liked you better as a math teacher," Percy concluded, glancing back at the two of us. Probably making sure we still had all our limbs.

Mrs. Dodds didn't seem to think he was all that funny and growled. The sound seemed to be coming from the inside of her throat, and it was low and gravelly. Percy pulled a pen - Riptide - from his pocket and uncapped it. The monster nearly flinched back, saying, "Submit now and you will not suffer eternal torment!"

"What a sweet-talker," I muttered.

Percy frowned at her. "Nice try."

I could hear some crackly and felt instantly uneasy. _Shouldn't we be getting the heck out of dodge now?_ If lightning struck the bus while we were still in it, we'd at least be injured. Luckily, I wasn't the only one that thought so, and Annabeth was hungry for her moment of glory. Out of nowhere, though it must have been planned or at least briefly thought out, Annabeth tackled the Fury from behind. Mrs. Dodds made a strangled noise, like she'd been trying to say something before she was squished, but I couldn't hear her pitiful attempts at shrieking over Annabeth. "Get out, fast!" she shouted. Neither Percy of I had the gall to question that, and as we exited the bus, I heard a final screeching noise and then silence. Annabeth followed us out, and dragged both of us away from the bus by the wrists, since we couldn't possibly run fast enough without her.

"That kid's a terrorist!" I heard someone say, but what was far more concerning was that when Annabeth lost grip of Percy's hand and then grabbed it back, she quickly retracted her hold, cursing.

"What?" I asked.

"Static," she muttered. "The bus -"

The very ground seemed to rattle under our feet as lightning, nearly as close as I had ever seen it before, struck the bus. The blast was loud, deafening, and then earsplitting in turn, leaving me with a ringing in my head that wouldn't go away. My head hurt and my pack suddenly felt heavy on my back. I'd signed up for this, but I was starting to seriously doubt my choices.

"These mortals look like they're about to go looking for pitchforks," I muttered, rubbing my eyes. "We need to get out of here. Even if the Fury's dead, we don't have time for angry mobs."

"One of them took our picture," said Percy, staring at a guy in a Hawaiian shirt. I was reminded of Mr. D.

"We're going to die!" a few of them were still shouting. I felt a vein pop in my forehead. You _are going to die?_ I nudged Percy and hung my shotgun on my shoulders and hid it behind my bookbag again. He seemed to take the hint. Riptide was capped in a few seconds.

"We need to get out of here," Annabeth said, turning immediately to the woods. We trailed after her as she picked up speed, Percy panting with the effort. "Even if the Kindly Ones are gone for now, that kind of chaos…"

"... It'll attract things," I finished, "won't it?"

Annabeth didn't really have to answer.

"All the money…" Percy gasped, staring back at the bus, bright and yellow through the gaps between trees.

"Food in my bag," I panted, "but not much."

"We'll have to find something," Annabeth said as we plunged further into the darkness ahead.

If I allowed things to go the way they did in the books, we'd be in Medusa's lair soon. We really couldn't catch a break, could we?

* * *

 _Hey, guys! Sorry for being a day late updating. I tried to update yesterday as promised, but for some reason, the doc manager would always freeze before I saved my changes. Instead, I'll just update a day earlier next time and, of course, count any reviews I got yesterday towards an early update next time. If I go ahead and do that, we can expect an update on the tenth. See you then!_


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

I was debating whether I should even allow us to reach Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium.

Frankly, I didn't want to bump into Medusa for any reason, at any time. It was such a risky endeavor. If my presence could change things - like the fact that all three Furies had just been killed as opposed to only two - who was to say that I couldn't also cause one of us to be petrified or otherwise killed by the ancient creature, even if it was indirectly? I didn't want that kind of weight on my shoulders. I also wasn't sure that I'd be able to act oblivious around her. Her food certainly wouldn't entrance me. I didn't even like burgers.

But I knew I was being selfish. Medusa was a threat to anyone who crossed her path, mortals included. The book seemed to suggest that she'd already killed hundreds of people. Allowing that to continue would be immoral at best, and, I thought, borderline evil. How many runaways had died in her shop? How many innocent men and women had stopped there and then never left? Or how many people were decorating their lawns with human corpses? How likely was it that another demigod would stumble through her emporium before more lives were lost?

Besides that, all of the money was in Percy's bag and I hadn't thought to grab it in the heat of the fight. Medusa's place would have enough money to get us by for a while, even including golden drachmas. We wouldn't have another chance at some money until we got to LA, and if we didn't get money, there was no guarantee we'd ever make it there in the first place. Besides that, the apples and peanut butter sitting on top of my clothing weren't going to last long.

On top of that, there was the issue of Gabe. If we didn't get her head, how were we supposed to take care of that little issue? Even if Percy wasn't my friend, he was a good kid who shouldn't have been living with a piece of shit like that. I entertained the idea that we peacefully kick him out of Percy's apartment but doubted he'd be so exciting. Maybe the best thing to do was to report it to the police. Except that our justice system kind of sucks.

 _Damn._ I decided, unwillingly, that I would let this all go. Interfere with this in particular as little as possible. Then, later on, I'd help things get kicked into gear. "So what's our plan of action?" I asked, dragging myself back into the conversation. "I think it's best if we get out of the state as soon as possible now that we've been spotted. After all, Percy already has people out for his head. The farther we get from New England, the better." What I didn't was how many things would get in our way before we actually did that.

"Maybe we can catch another bus," Percy offered, his stomach growling. I tossed him an apple.

"It's a possibility," I agreed.

"But don't buses usually have cameras on them?" Annabeth asked as Percy sunk his teeth into the white flesh of the fruit. I raised my eyebrows at her, as if to ask why that was even relevant. "I'm guessing that bus drivers will be among the first to get our mugshots," she explained, trudging on through the woods.

"Oh," I breathed. So how were we supposed to get out of the state? How had they done it in the books? Didn't that poodle buy them train tickets west? We didn't exactly have Grover, so that wasn't an option anymore. I swore. Why hadn't I thought of this earlier? It was a big problem. This much of a setback was _not_ a good thing.

"What?" Annabeth said, looking a little surprised at me.

I sighed. "We have, what, ten days, and we have to get cross country in that amount of time without our money or anybody old enough to drive a car without attracting attention even if we somehow managed to steal one? This is a huge issue. World war three on the line here." I chewed unhappily on the fleshy inside of my mouth.

"Calm down," Annabeth reassured me. "You're right - we've got ten days. That's plenty of time to call in a favor or get some money from somewhere. We'll get there." She sounded like she was trying to make herself feel better, too. More quietly, she muttered, "We have to."

I swallowed blood.

It was sort of depressing that, even with the books on my side, thanks to this single issue, I had no clue how things would turn out. It was ridiculous. How could I fail to consider that? How could that not cross my mind at all? I knew I wasn't a genius. but even though this event seemed small in the grand scheme of things, in this quest alone, it was a big deal. I wondered if we'd have to hitchhike. What kind of respectable person would pick up three kids who weren't even fifteen or sixteen yet?

Besides that, now we had to suffer the indignity of looking forward to a mysterious void that could either lead to great success or death - and it was starting to look like we'd never reach it at all! Things just kept going downhill. _It's nice how my knowledge of the plot is_ really _helping me,_ I thought gloomily, dragging my feet a little as I walked. By force of habit, that didn't last long, and each step became deliberate and silent. It was a shame I probably wouldn't be doing any deer hunting anymore.

"We can worry about all that later," said Percy, sighing to himself as he chucked his apple core at a downed tree. His stomach growled despondently again, drawing a weak chuckle from me. It faded quickly into deep breaths and then total quiet. "I'm hungry."

"You just ate an apple," I protested, but I kept thinking, _You know what I want? A juicy, bloody, medium-rare lean steak fresh off the grill with some A1 and a twice-baked potato. And some iced tea wouldn't go amiss, either. That's what I want._ Percy was probably coming to a similar conclusion. I wiped a thin line of drool from the corner of my mouth, and then all three of our stomachs growled in harmony.

Both Percy and I fixed our eyes on Annabeth, whose face flushed as she turned away. "Look, it's been, like, twenty-four hours since I've eaten."

"Yeah," I said, but I'm pretty sure that what actually came out of my mouth sounded more like 'ssssteeeaaak'. Because at that exact moment, the most glorious scent I'd ever had the the pleasure of sniffing flooded the air. Did I know where it was coming from? Yes. Did it matter to me? No. No, it didn't. Not really.

Because this, boys and girls, was not a burger. It. Was. Steak.

I wiped some more drool onto my sleeve and started walking faster, suddenly feeling much less fond of my slower-paced companions. "Less talkin', more walkin'. That smells like a good cut to me."

Oddly enough, neither of them argued.

Part of the other reason I felt the need to hurry was because I was worried that I'd chicken out if I took too long to think about it. So I was just sort of rushing through the woods, probably scaring away every squirrel within a mile thanks to my unusually loud footsteps.

"Meat," intoned Percy cleverly.

"Let's get some," Annabeth agreed. _Smart decision, wise girl._

That wasn't sarcasm, by the way. I don't care how athletic you are; taking away food or the potential of food from me is a lot like standing between a mother bear and her cub. I'll fight you. And I didn't like the barbecue we seemed to eat a lot at camp, so my feelings towards the steak in my future were probably stronger than they should have been. _Lucky thing 'wise girl' doesn't have the wisdom to consider that we might be walking straight into a trap._

The smell only got stronger as we got closer to the sign, which was in the ugliest cursive I'd ever seen and glowed a burning bright red. I couldn't read it, but I knew what it said: _Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium_. How could I possibly forget the time Percy Jackson slew Medusa, after all? It was obviously a pretty important fight, even if it was by no means one of his greatest achievements. My heart raced.

So much for her damned food not entrancing me.

"What the heck does that say?" Percy asked.

"How should I know?" Annabeth replied.

I brushed a lock of brown hair out of my eyes. "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium."

Percy led the charge to the door. Even though the smell obviously wasn't of the double cheeseburger he so desperately wanted, the smell was appealing. And, frankly, if you choose a cheeseburger over a steak, you're an idiot.

Outside of the gate, placed directly across from each other at opposite sides of the entrance, were two little gnomes. They weren't the type of cute little garden gnomes with flushed cheeks and reddened noses that you usually see sitting around in some lonely old lady's yard. They were plain, grey stone, and horribly, grotesquely realistic. In fact, I could even see that one of them had very open pores. Their noses were both large and hooked, and they both looked kind of dumpy in their loose, heavy clothing. The only thing that even made them identifiable as gnomes were their pointed hats. One's face was fearful and the other enraged. I looked away from them and swallowed another mouthful of blood.

Inside, I could see more statues. All of them were… off, somehow. Not all of them had horrified expressions - in fact, plenty of them were smiling, like Medusa had actually managed to catch them off guard - but the poses were so real and sloppy and natural that it wasn't something a sculptor would do. I wondered if it was just because of my knowledge of the plot, and that must have been true, because no one else seemed to notice, even as we started through the gate. "The lights are on inside," Annabeth noted.

"Snack bar," Percy said.

"Snack bar," Annabeth agreed.

"This is not a snack bar," I told them, but I kept walking, only partly because I knew we had to keep pushing on.

I felt that the statues were staring at me, even though I knew their dead eyes were incapable of anything forever. They couldn't hurt me. Couldn't touch me. Couldn't hear me or possibly notice me at all. They weren't like the Weeping Angels of Doctor Who, waiting until I closed my eyes or turned my back to put me to my end. The blood flowing from the cut in my mouth was diminishing, so when I swallowed, there was only a slightly metallic taste on the sticky back of my tongue.

What was creepy was that the woman I knew to be Medusa opened the door and walked towards us before we even had a chance to get to it. The skin of her hands was wrinkled and dark brown, and she was wearing something that resembled the most conservative of hijabs. She made me nervous, and it wasn't because of her Muslim dress. It wasn't that even her eyes were veiled. Shouldn't that have been a tell? She wasn't a kind Islamic lady. She was a terrible, deadly monster. She must have smelled three demigods instead of two and one satyr and gotten a little tpo eager to wait for us. "Children, it is too late to be out all alone," she said, her voice rich and deep and heavily accented. "Where are your parents?"

 _Like you don't know._

"They're, um -" Annabeth began.

"We're orphans." Unfortunately, before anybody had a chance to intervene, Percy started up with his crap circus story. Not that it mattered. "Anyway," he finished after a lengthy spiel that had me flushing in sympathetic embarrassment, "we're lost. Is that food I smell?"

 _Smooth,_ I thought.

"Oh, my dears," Medusa crooned, and I cringed. My parents hadn't called me _dear._ Not even my gramma had. 'Dear' was such a hideous pet name, and now not only was I on the receiving end, but it was some ugly old monster bitch who intended to petrify us. Maybe it was for revenge on Percy's father. Maybe she was angry that sales were crap in this area. Or maybe she just wanted something to keep her company forever. Either way, not somebody I wanted calling me that. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area."

Of course there was a dining area. She wasn't going to lure her prey into this creepy old place any other way.

I hesitated before stepping in. Maybe I should have just whipped out my gun and ended her right then, but I really was hungry. And this was an important event. Who knew what would happen if I fouled it up? Swallowing, I hurried in behind Percy and Annabeth. Maybe the cool shadow of the warehouse would normally have been comforting, but not today.

"Circus caravan?" questioned Annabeth, one brown brow raised.

Percy smirked at her. "Always have a strategy, right?"

Annabeth just shook her head. "Your head is full of kelp."

I knew it was too late to back out without a fight now, but maybe I could at least spare us some trouble. The steak really did smell good, but I was still horribly nervous. I knew that my previous backup acts with Percy and my pathetic attempt to be brave in front of the Furies would be nothing compared to this. They couldn't kill me with a single glance, at least. "Guys…"

But then I stopped. I knew she was trailing right behind us. Annabeth gave me a funny look, but she was really only semi-aware. Percy looked like he'd been drugged. I was sure that the only reason I wasn't the same was because I knew everything that was going on here. Down to the details.

It was sort of bizarre that the dining area was in the warehouse like that, but not just because of the kitchen. It had everything from the menu board (which was blank) to those metal/plastic tables that never seem to look clean. Not only that, but it was huge considering the size of the warehouse. Even if it had once been a cafeteria, it was so disproportionately large that I worried she may have modified it to host field trips for high school art classes. A shiver rushed down my spine. I felt like I'd been drenched in freezing water.

There was a lone bottle of A1 sitting on the counter. I glanced back in the direction of the exit. Maybe we could make it running?

"Please, sit down," Medusa said, directing us to a table with a wave of her arms.

Percy absently replied, "Awesome."

There was a moment of silence. "Thanks, ma'am. We - we appreciate it."

"Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth agreed.

Our hostess's whole body tensed at Annabeth's words, like she'd heard something rude or smelled really gross. I knew why, of course, but I might have missed it if I hadn't been paying attention. Almost instantly, she loosened up. "Quite all right, Annabeth." I'd known it was coming, but now it was my turn to tense. Hopefully my loose clothing hid most of it, though she'd obviously see me clenching my teeth. "You have such beautiful grey eyes, child."

She seemed to stare at Annabeth for a little longer, so intensely that I could practically feel the pinpricks of her eyes myself. Then, without warning, she went off to prepare the food.

I was so hungry, but I couldn't allow us to stay here.

My stomach growled, like it was angry at my life choices.

"Guys, we need to go," I whispered. "N-Now. Please."

"Don't be silly, Amara," Annabeth scolded me. "She's giving us food."

"I know, but -"

"Aren't you hungry, too?" Percy asked. "This stuff smells awesome."

"It does," I agreed before I could stop myself. But the food wasn't the issue. The issue was the fight. The issue was my cowardice. The issue was that this was a necessary part of Percy's trip, but I really just didn't want it to happen. Why was I here, anyways? Why had I been stupid enough to sign up for this? Had I even thought about it? "But… she -"

The smell in the room suddenly got really strong. It smelled almost like bacon. Between the steak, the bacon, and the slightly sweet smell drifting my direction, I was distracted.

"She what?" asked Annabeth, sounding only vaguely interested.

"She," I said, "she… she's got chocolate milkshakes."

Sure enough, she did. Aunty Em came walking over with a tray with three of the largest, most beautiful milkshakes I'd ever seen. They were a rich, milk chocolate brown. A thick layer of dark chocolate was settled in the bottom of each glass. I could see M&Ms and pieces of brownie floating around in the ice cream. It was topped with whipped cream in a perfect decorative cone and hot fudge, complete with red-and-white striped straws and silver spoons. I wasn't sure what I'd been thinking before, and I wasn't even sure if it was important, what with that glorious piece of art sitting in front of me.

Manners abandoned, I dug in almost immediately.

May I just say: that shake? It was freaking amazing. It had this deep, lingering flavor with just the slightest touch of raspberry and the perfect consistency, so that the candy and brownies didn't sink to the bottom but it could also be easily sucked through the straw. It was refreshingly cold and unhealthy. I was sure that I had gained a pound by the first time I swallowed, but I didn't stop. Not like I wasn't going to burn it off during the quest.

I frowned and stopped drinking for a moment. The quest. Was there something about the quest I was supposed to be thinking about now? Certainly it would be at the top of my mind if there was, right? And anyways, how could I think on an empty stomach? _This is so nice of Aunty Em,_ I thought, and then slurped down the last of my milkshake. I used the spoon to attack the whipped cream and the chocolate at the bottom. It was smooth and gummy from being chilled by the ice cream. My eyelids drooped.

About half a second later, Aunty Em appeared with the most marvelous thing I'd ever seen. It was practically gourmet: a shish kebab with chunks of perfectly grilled steak - a little blood was still seeping from mine - and shrimp. The whole thing was wrapped in bacon. I wiped more drool from the corner of my mouth. I seemed to be crying. _Gods,_ it smelled amazing.

Gods. The gods. _Am I missing something here?_

I took the A1 that she'd brought to the table and slathered the kebabs with it, feeling only a little uncertain. I licked the taste of milkshake from my lips and nibbled on the crispy, hot bacon that shielded the topmost piece of steak from me. Such a thing could not be allowed to exist.

"Thank you again, ma'am," I gushed. "This is fantastic."

"No, no," she chided, and I was sure she was smiling at me behind her veil. "It is nothing, Amara." Once again, it was like I'd been slapped in the face, but there was a piece of fabric over my skin to soften the blow just a little. But how many of those blows had I received? I tried not to narrow my eyes and kept eating away at my food.

But then I started noticing little things, like how my steak was done exactly the way I liked it at about halfway between rare and medium rare, but Percy's looked medium and Annabeth's well done. I noticed that my bacon was totally crispy - the way I liked it - but theirs wasn't, though neither of them seemed to be complaining. I realized that I still felt uneasy, but when I looked around, all I could see were those eerily lifelike statues.

How did Aunty Em know exactly how we wanted our food prepared? How did she know my name? And what about Annabeth's?

I took a few more bites of my last remaining kebab.

What about the statues? They were so real. I sort of felt like their smooth, unmarked eyes were glaring at me from a distance. And the more I looked at them, the more I felt uneasy about their expressions. I struggled against the urge to squirm in my seat.

I also wondered why she'd felt it important to comment on Annabeth's eyes, like they were far more important than our ragged clothes or Percy's bullshit circus story. What kind of responsible adult would even fall for that, anyways? Was it even legal to have kids traveling around like that? If so, even if the story wasn't so absurd, she should have taken issue with it. _Gods, this whole situation is ju -_

 _Gods._

 _Gods, I'm supposed to be on a quest._

I felt my mind do a sudden 180. It almost hurt. But suddenly, the smell of the food wasn't so entrancing. It didn't turn to garbage or anything - it still looked great - but I realized with a start that I'd known all along who was serving it, and that somehow, she'd managed to completely redirect my mental facilities. How? A trick of the Mist? Could I really be so gullible, even with my prior knowledge of this world?

I knew I'd have to step up my game.

I also knew that the battle was soon. I wondered if I might puke on my shoes.

As quickly as if it had been overrun by red ants, I jumped out of my seat. "I thank you again for your generosity, ma'am," I said, though I must have seemed to be struggling with a particularly bad case of diarrhea of the mouth. "We need to be going. The ringmaster awaits! Right, guys?"

"Yeah," Annabeth agreed, looking a little hesitant but then enlightened. "We don't want to be late."

"Guys, what's the rush?" Percy asked us. He looked sleepy. "It's nice here. Aunty Em is nice."

"We have a job to do," I reminded him, chuckling weakly. "How will the circus cope without us?"

"I'm sure they'll manage," he replied. It was freaky how willing he was to condemn himself to death. Could Mist really be so strong?

Aunty Em's - _Medusa's_ \- hands clasped, like she was preparing to beg. I wondered if she had a look of desperation behind that veil for authenticity, or if she was really leering, proud of how thoroughly fooled we were. "Please, dears, I so rarely get to be with children," she implored, and I swallowed. "Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?"

"A pose?" Annabeth asked skeptically. I know she must have wanted to yank Percy off his ass and run, but she knew it wouldn't go over well.

"A photograph," Medusa explained patiently, though I knew she couldn't have been less so. "I will use it to model a new statue set." _Sure you will._ "Children are so popular, you see." I didn't see. She had a depressing number of _children_ sitting around in her warehouse that hadn't been sold, so that apparently wasn't true by any means. "Everyone loves children."

"I don't think we can, ma'am," said Annabeth, shifting uncomfortably in her place. "Come on, Percy -"

He abruptly cut her off. "Sure we can," Percy snapped. He looked incredibly annoyed, but I decided to chalk it up to the Mist thing that Medusa was doing. "It's just a photo. What's the harm?"

"Yes, Annabeth," Medusa agreed softly. Her voice seemed to vibrate, reminding me of the growling sound I'd always associate with Mrs. Dodds. "No harm."

I felt my nose and eyebrow twitch. My heart thudded in my chest. But I followed Medusa with the other kids. I wasn't sure I could keep quiet much longer. My feet seemed to drag. I couldn't stay upbeat like Percy. In fact, I rather felt like I'd overdosed on horse tranqs.

She started sitting us down in one of those wooden benches with metal legs. We would have to be sitting side by side about the same way; not great for three unique statues. It kind of screamed "I'm a Fibby McFibber" and I wasn't sure why, even in his dazed state, Percy hadn't somehow noticed that something was way, way off.

"Now, I'll just position you correctly," she said, eying us like she was a vulture and we were carcasses on the side of the road. "The young man in the middle, I think, and the two ladies on either side." She gestured at the bench and pointed to each of us in turn.

I took a step forward and then a step back. The fact of the matter was that I couldn't make myself jump into it all. I was as freaked out by this as I'd ever been. I didn't want to die. Not then. Not now. I can only say that's the moment when I was hit by a brief moment of pure genius. I was pretty obvious terrified. This would be both a way to cop out without really abandoning anyone and a cover story. Two birds, one stone.

"I - I'm fotografizophobic!" I breathed, taking in a few shallow breaths for effect. "I can't do this."

"What does that even mean?" Percy asked.

"She's afraid of having her picture taken," Annabeth said. "It's actually pretty common in some parts of the world. I'm pretty sure there are certain people groups that believe photographs steal your soul." _Oh, the irony._

"I think I'll have to sit this one out," I said, sniffling.

"It's quite alright, dear," Medusa said. "Perhaps next time." Needless to say, that bothered me. Why would it be fine? Also, she couldn't plan on photographing me later because a person afraid of having their picture taken wouldn't consent to it, especially when the process required petrification.

"Not much light for a photo," Percy noted, glancing around. It was actually getting dark. This got more ridiculous every second.

"And you don't have a camera," I pointed out, "ma'am." There again was that respect that nobody seemed to deserve. What was the point anymore? Remembrance of my dad, who I'd probably never see again? I wiped away another tear.

Medusa ignored us. Maybe she didn't want Percy and Annabeth to look so uneasy in her 'picture'. "Now, the face is the most difficult," she told us, standing back and basking in the glory of her 'pose'. "Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?" _So it doesn't fade before their faces are frozen forever._

"It's a lovely shot, ma'am," I complimented, meeting eyes with Annabeth. I blinked a few times and then squeezed my eyes shut, cocking my head ever so slightly towards Medusa. Annabeth got the message, seeing as how she already knew it. Percy was still mostly brain dead. "But from where you're standing the photograph itself probably won't be good reference material. I'd say if you squat a little you'll get a better shot -"

There goes that diarrhea of the mouth again.

"Yes, yes, dear," she muttered, sounding vaguely annoyed.

"And maybe you should, er, run and get your camera? We're nearly out of time," I told her.

"Of course, Amara," she agreed, but I could tell she barely knew what I was saying.

I stared at the pair, like I was scrutinizing them. "I really do think you'll get a lot of distortion from here. Maybe -"

I was sure, now, that she was smiling now. "We won't need to worry about distortion, dear." _Creepy,_ I thought, staring at Annabeth. As she was a child of the goddess of strategy, I wasn't sure if the moment when she started the battle was important to its outcome. The longer this went on, the more nervous I was getting.

But I wondered if I shouldn't just whack her head off with my knife before she revealed her true form. It's too bad I didn't have the guts required.

"One moment," Medusa requested. "I can't see you very well with this cursed veil." She reached up to her head and began to pull it off.

I pretended to look at a watch I wasn't wearing. It probably just made me look obnoxious, but I didn't know what else to do. "We're really short on time. We should go,,, I'm sorry."

Percy jerked a little, but he still seemed unable to move.

Annabeth, fortunately, was on my side. "Percy, something's wrong."

Medusa was unwrapping the black fabric around her head. I wanted to scream. I wouldn't be able to see her face where I was standing, but Annabeth and Percy were. "Wrong?" Aunty Em echoed. I watched part of the fabric fall down and the hissing died down. As quietly as I could manage, I drew my knife. Its sharp, serrated blade wasn't comforting, since it was so short that I'd have to be within arm's reach of her to be useful at all. "Not at all, dear. I have such noble company tonight. What could be wrong?"

"These statues," I said aloud. "Percy -"

"Look away from her!" Annabeth ordered. She shoved Percy off of the bench, which was hopefully enough to startle him back to total consciousness. Meanwhile, I got an eyeful of the back of her wrinkly, grey, pitted neck and the writhing serpents on her head. I looked away as quickly as I could manage.

Annabeth was dashing away, and I suddenly realized that she thought the best strategy was just to get the heck out of Dodge. After all, Medusa didn't have wings like the Furies, so she'd be running just like us. In terms of advantages over us, all she could do was petrify us if we happened to look at her. Those claws were a threat, but we had equally sharp and dangerous weapons. As long as we avoided looking at anything above the neck, we were on equal enough ground that we might have been able to leave without fighting at all.

Except that Percy was still too dazed to run. Unfortunately, I'd failed to change that much.

Annabeth was gone. I guessed she'd put on her cap since I saw her running in the instant before I turned away, but there were greater concerns. Medusa was drawing closer and closer to Percy. Had she done that in the books? I couldn't remember. It was disconcerting anyways and I took a few cautious, steady steps forward, breath catching. Suddenly, it was like someone else entirely had possessed my body entirely. I gritted my teeth, eyebrows narrowed, and ran, taking a few faster steps forward. " _Maia!_ " I shouted, and soared unsteadily into the air. Medusa seemed like she was about to turn around, so I kicked her in the face area, sending her falling backwards. She howled in anger as I began to lose momentum, crash landing behind a bunch of statues.

The wings withdrew into my shoes almost immediately and I gasped at the sting of worn cement scraping at my knees. The breath had been knocked out of me but I rose as quickly as I could manage, grabbing the shoulder of what was essentially a corpse for support. I leaned against it, gasping, before shooting away behind a shelf. What was I supposed to do now? I cautiously peeked over at the monster, who was back up, still a little unbalanced as she whispered the words of a demon. Percy was off the ground, but he seemed to be still only half there, his neck resisting the urge to turn toward someone he associated with friendliness.

But then she was coming upon him, her curled, over long celestial bronze nails inching toward him to cradle his face and turn his head to her deadly glare. A distraction was necessary, but I wasn't sure how to pull that off. This was the part where Grover hit her with a baseball bat as he soared past on the flying shoes, but I wasn't ready to make such a bold move. I'd probably die, especially since I didn't have an animal's nose or ears to stop me from crash landing. I'd have to have my eyes open. "Too risky," I muttered aloud.

But were there any other options? I could not use my shotgun, and my backpack was sitting in her dining hall (it must have been, because I certainly wasn't wearing it) so I couldn't throw anything at her. All I had was my knife and those stupid, stupid shoes.

Percy was listening to her. I made an active, moronic choice. " _Maia!_ Percy, get out of the -"

I wish I could say it worked out. And really, it almost did.

One of the flying sneakers just barely clipped Percy on the shoulder. He didn't make any noise, so he must have been fine. Unfortunately, this caused me to trip in mid air. You know that moment when you lean too far back in your chair and you just _know_ you're going to fall backward? I had that moment and struggled not to open my eyes. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach; the way things were going, I was about to fall straight onto those awful claws. Death by evisceration. I wasn't game for that, but it didn't seem that I'd have much of a choice.

Instead, my torso cleared her shoulders and my dragging legs knocked into her. I heard her making some awful screeching as we hit the ground. In a panic, I reached for the shotgun, but it wasn't on my back anymore. It had fallen off and I'd missed the sound amidst the chaos! A pathetic squeak came slipping through my shut lips. I was crawling. A shuffling noise. More squeaking. I panted. My legs scraped against the cement. I was sure my palms were bleeding from catching the ground; they stung. I noted a hissing. Something hard caught me in the ribs.

I went flying.

And, by far, worst of all, my eyes opened on impact.

I heard Percy shout something. Maybe it was "Amara, don't!" or "Stop!" or some kind of warning. I think Annabeth may have echoed it, because I suddenly felt panicked and sick to my stomach. I felt tears streaming down my face, but my vision didn't blur. I gasped, a choked sobbing noise forcing itself from my throat. Usually I would have been angry at myself for displaying my weakness so openly.

But I was suddenly blind, surrounded by an odd, fuzzy dark grey, and I was truly afraid. I pushed myself backward in a panic, sniffling and crying to myself as I tried to get away from the sound of a few cruel, deliberate footsteps. In another direction - my front left, I think - I could hear someone desperately fumbling around, their movements quick and jerky. I knew that I'd looked on her face. The blindness, I decided, was probably because I was slowly turning into stone. Soon my limbs wouldn't move and my body would be frozen in place, a look of abject terror forever crossing my face. Not exactly the statue she'd wanted before.

How long would it take, though? Because I was still stumbling back. _How long will I be alive?_

"Just - h-hold on, Amara!" It was Annabeth's voice. The footsteps stopped. I wondered if she'd been meaning to reassure me, or if she had purposely distracted Medusa with the promise of the location of her enemy's daughter. But I didn't hear her coming towards me, so she must have decided that it was unwise to really help me out.

And then I heard a gunshot.

It was loud and echoed through the night, reverberating through my bones and sending a jolt up my spine so I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. For a moment, I wondered if I'd been hit, because I felt numb, and then I thought I'd finally been petrified.

Both of these things were disproved when unsteady, rapid footsteps drew closer to my side lifted me by my _mobile_ arm. I thought it must be Percy because of the shape of his hands, but I still had no idea what was happening. I help out my hands in front of me and then touched my face. My skin felt like skin, and I was warm, not cold rock like the statues that I still couldn't see.

Someone came behind me, panting, coming off an adrenaline rush. "How did you -" It was Annabeth.

"I can't," I paused, feeling that I knew what she was going to ask. My lips felt parched and I licked them. "I can't see."

There was a long, drawn out moment of silence. And then Percy said, "Are - Are you serious?" I imagined him peering into my eyes, confused. At least they looked the same as usual, then. "The colored part is gone."

 _Guess not._

I heard Annabeth move in front of me. "And they -" She let out a slow, calm exhale. "It doesn't matter. Look, it makes sense. She wasn't petrified because she _couldn't_ see Medusa. How - No. Who did it?"

"It wasn't me," Percy said defensively, and Annabeth snorted.

"Duh, Seaweed Brain." She linked her arm in mine. "We need to get our stuff and get of here. I've got your weapons, Amara."

I should have said thanks, but my lips were still trembling.

Several minutes later, we were gone.

* * *

 _Hey, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the new update, yeah? Let me know what you think._

 _I've put up a poll regarding what I should do once we hit 100 reviews. If you guys would please check it out, that'd be awesome._

 _Also, I want to give a shout out to Krazyfanfiction1 and thank them. They have reviewed_ literally every chapter _, which is pretty awesome. It's always encouraging to see your review and know that some people have been following me the whole way._

 _By the way, any PJO fic recs? I'm running out of things to read xD_

 _Next update is set for Halloween. I know that's a long way away, but I want to provide quality chapters for you guys and I'm struggling right now. If I try and force myself to write this when I don't know what to say, the story will pretty much turn into a puddle of sadness, cliches, and lost dreams. I hope you guys aren't upset with me. See you then!_


	14. Chapter 14

_IF YOU DIDN'T THINK THE WAIT WAS WORTH IT, THIS CHAPTER IS 9000 WORDS! :)_

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

* * *

I'd ruined everything.

I should have just let Percy and Annabeth handle it. That way, things could have gone just as they were supposed to. Percy would have beheaded Medusa and sent the head to Mount Olympus in his little act of rebellion. His mom could be freed from Gabe. _He_ could be freed from Gabe. But now that man was rooted into their lives. Why oh why hadn't I just kept out of it?

Annabeth helped me through the woods and to our campsite, mumbling her fascination of my current condition, and then sat me down on a pile of blankets. The air smelled like mud with a hint of something sickly sweet, like soda syrup, and my nose wrinkled. I'd stopped crying quickly, but my mind was still in a state of despair over what I'd done and, selfishly, my sudden lack of eyesight.

Darkness. It seemed to be a recurring theme lately, and I didn't want to ponder it too much.

I was incredibly uncomfortable and suspected I was parked on top of a soda can, but it was under the blanket and I couldn't see to remove it. I leaned up against a tree trunk and let my eyelids slide shut. Annabeth was snoozing beside me and Percy was silent. I was by no means capable of conversation. Maybe I could have said 'yeah' or 'no' a couple of times, but other than that… I just felt tired.

If I could screw this up, I wondered, then what else I could do? More than anything, I felt that our lives were at stake. Just a little deviation from the plot and we'd all be dead. I didn't have to be bold or intentional. I just had to be there, and suddenly, nothing would be the same anymore. I'd known all along that watching my step would be important, but now I felt that my burden had been doubled. I had to fix this mistake somehow. And that included getting back my eyesight.

Speaking of which, hadn't Annabeth mentioned something about them? Or started to? Something about my irises being _. I swallowed. What if only my eyes had been turned to stone, and some spirit or god had interfered to save the rest of me? But then, wouldn't I feel my pebbles of eyeballs sinking down into my head like the rocks they were? Wouldn't they be weighted somehow?

 _Logic didn't always apply in the myths._

"My eyes are what," I said.

Percy started in front of me. "What?" he said, his voice bouncing off the trees, ghostly whispers that seemed to sneak unwelcomed into my head.

"My irises," I corrected. "Annabeth started to say something about them."

Percy paused for a long time, like he didn't quite want to tell me what was up. Maybe they really were rocks, settling uneasily in the pit of my stomach. "They turned kind of… red."

"Red," I echoed. _How cliche._

"No," he said, sounding frustrated, "like they're bleeding. Or they've got blood blisters or something."

I tried to imagine that and hoped they weren't as disgusting as the image neatly imprinting itself into the recesses of my head.

"Oh."

"It's not so bad," he offered half-heartedly.

"It is," I snapped. "You should have picked a senior camper. I can't exactly help you in this state."

"Maybe you should have some ambrosia. It's in your bag, right?" Percy asked. I could tell he was pretty desperate to make me feel less like shit, and I'm sure the little idiot was somehow blaming himself for all of it. But I tried to imagine eating fudgy beef steak or fried fish or whatever ambrosia was supposed to taste like in my mood and shook my head. Besides, could god food fix a problem like mine? Or even the minor one of the grey static that had possessed my eyes and taken hold of my brain?

"Thanks, Percy," I muttered, leaning against my tree and hoping I'd effectively ended the conversation. After all, I had other things to worry about. Like how we were supposed to reach the west in time with the twenty dollars from Medusa's lair and no Grover to sweet talk ugly poodles into giving us a helping hand. Paw. Whatever.

"Maybe you'll feel better after you get some sleep," he said hopefully, and I nodded even though I didn't have much hope myself. If my eyes were bleeding, that sounded like physical damage a little too devastating to fix overnight. I also couldn't help but feel like I deserved to be punished. _How dare I ruin things for Percy and his mother. And when they're so much better than me, too. Shame on me. Shame. How dare I._

And so progressed the next five minutes or so.

I'd been sleeping easy the last several nights, my head clear of dreams when I finally managed to lapse into unconsciousness, so the fact that my insomnia was still very present and limiting me to a couple hours a night didn't bother me. But today I was spent. Between starting the quest, getting held up by the Furies, hiking miles, meeting Medusa of all things, royally screwing things up, and going blind, I'm not sure I could have stayed up if I wanted to. The dark gray clouding my vision became pitch black as I shut my eyes a final time. My last coherent thought was that I missed the sound of spring peepers and resented the ugly silence that saturated the clearing in their stead.

I awoke in a place that didn't smell like garbage. The muddy ground didn't shift under my feet, suggesting that it wasn't muddy at all. Worst of all, I still couldn't see. I held my hands in front of me, palms out. "Annabeth?" I called, taking a hesitant step forward. "Percy?" There was no answer. Everything was completely silent and still around me. I couldn't even hear anything breathing. I felt my own heart and lungs working to combat my anxiety and swallowed. "Guys?" Had they realized how useless I would be and abandoned me? _NO. Neither of them would do that._ I didn't feel my knife hanging from my waist and there was obviously no tug on my shoulder, even if the shotgun would have been useless anyways.

There didn't seem to be anything to bump into. I kept slowly, blindly stumbling around, but there was nothing to touch and nothing to trip on. In fact, not even the elevation was changing. I seemed to be walking on perfectly even _flooring,_ not earth, which literally has its pits and falls, no matter where you are and even if it's only a few millimeters' change. I wondered with a thrill of fear if there would be a sudden, deadly drop soon. Like stairs.

"Amara Easterling," mused a voice that was low and female and somehow seemed to fill the space around me. It was intimidating in its infinity and sent my head into an involuntary frenzy. I felt it echo against the back of my skull, and I cried out, falling gracelessly backward and holding my hands out like I thought I could somehow defend myself.

But there was really no mistake. I was alone and defenseless, and I had a bad feeling that whoever this being was, they could probably destroy me even in my dream state. There was something about them that flooded my senses, and it wasn't a smell or a taste or a thundering sound. The air seemed to vibrate on the tips of my fingers and along the bare skin of my arms, raising my skin in gooseflesh, but that wasn't it, either. It was power, deadly and raw, shoved into every crevice of my body until I was rendered unable to move or make a sound. It was suffocating, crammed down my throat, catching the air in my lungs until I felt that I couldn't breathe at all. The instant I noticed it, my lungs struggled for dominance over the heavy air, but it was like there was a weight on my diaphragm.

I considered screaming, but only a strangled whimper escaped from the suddenly dry tightness of my throat. Tears formed shining beads in the corner of my eyes, though I surely felt more than saw them. One spilled over my eyelashes and plummeted down the smooth skin of my cheek. "A coward," the voice mused. "I expected better."

"Who are you?" I managed to force out. I wasn't sure if it was at all audible, but I could certainly make it out - saturated with fear and panic. I felt cowardly, but if I'd just had my vision -

Another tear slid from my eye and an alarmingly hot and smooth finger brushed it away. "You'd be dead, Amara. Surely you know better than to wish to see a goddess in her true form." I flinched away from her touch, not at first registering what she'd said. "As for who I am… you're evidently a disappointment, but at least not a stupid one. I think you can piece that together for yourself."

It was stupid, but I felt somehow insulted. She'd managed to sort of compliment me but make it sound dirty and wrong. But she wanted me to figure out who she was - and I would. She was a woman, probably a goddess or other entity. And… she was in her true form. Why? Was she trying to show off? Grab my attention? At least in this state I wouldn't be killed, but… hadn't she just touched me? Wouldn't that kill me too?

But the mortal who'd married Eros had _sex_ with him in his true form. I'd be fine, I decided, so long as my vision didn't come back.

But I _wanted_ it back.

"You brought me here," I decided, my body stilling as I realized I'd been unconsciously scooting back. The muscles around my shoulders tensed in indignation. _So much for not allowing myself to be intimidated or manipulated._ I pushed myself up, standing slowly. I wanted to look strong, but not overly threatening or defiant. Vaporized through dreamland - what a way to go. "You - you took me away from home."

I heard her inhale deeply and sensed that she was smiling. Beaming, even. Like she was proud of herself. "You might be a coward, but the one before was worse. At least a spirit like yours has a chance of improvement."

"Improvement," I echoed.

"Improvement," she agreed smoothly, running the tips of her fingers along my jaw. It twitched open and shut, shivering from the slight tickle, but I made not a sound. I would like to say it was because I resisted the feeling but the truth was that it was too creepy to make me laugh. "You'll have to develop a backbone sooner or later, now that you've started down this path. Cowardice will get you killed. You understand that." It sounded like something that should have been sympathetic but wasn't. Instead, she sounded pleased. I realized that 'the one before' being a coward - or more of a coward - probably meant that she wouldn't have gotten involved. Maybe that was why 'I' didn't exist in the books. Would I now?

 _I just hope to God I'm not in that shit-tastic movie,_ I thought humorlessly.

"I'd rather live a quiet life," I told her. My voice was dry, and my throat suddenly felt soar. My heart spiked with resentment. Thanks to this person, I'd missed three months of Josiah's life. I was even starting to miss my other two siblings, and my heart ached for a sight of my parents. I was angry, murderous, even. "Who are you to take me away from my family?"

There was a short pause, and then a felt a sharp pain blossomed just below my left cheekbone. I was knocked backward and let out an involuntary gasp. In an instant, a presence was upon me. Four fingers on the right and a thumb on the left - _a left hand,_ I realized - dug into the flesh of my cheeks and lower jaw. I tasted a little blood from where her thumb pushed the inside of cheek into one of my molars and swallowed it. Once again, I felt that I could no longer breathe. It was like this woman's anger and emotions were being jammed down my unwilling throat, scraping the sides like suffocating fingers. "You should know that the gods dislike insubordinance. As do I. I fully expect you to be much more than the disgrace that the other would have been. I did not go to all this effort for an unnecessarily defiant bitch."

"You shouldn't say bitch," I said without thinking, sighing with relief as my face was released and my head thumped against the ground. It felt like bathroom laminate: hard but sort of plastic-y and with the tiniest amount of give.

Surprisingly enough, this drew nothing more than a low chuckle. "You know as well as I that you're older than twelve."

"Yeah, I was." I could feel my mood taking a turn for the worst again. "So who are you? What's your _name_? Why did you bring me here? To this dream, I mean?"

"One question at a time, Amara Easterling," commanded the voice, a little distant now. My head turned in the direction of the sound in an act of politeness, and I promptly turned back, disgusted. I didn't owe her any respect. She owed me… though she seemed more under the impression that she _owned_ me. I rolled my tongue as an oddly foul taste flooded my mouth. "I was hoping you would have taken a wild guess by now, but I suppose you'll have to learn boldness. It could be said that I'm… responsible for some of the more remarkable talents you possess."

I hissed. "What ta - wait." I rolled my tongue again. "You - you're my mother." This time I could really taste something wrong. It lined my tongue and the delicate skin of my lips, though it was nothing more than a word. This woman couldn't be my mother. I knew my mom. I _loved_ my mom. This wasn't her: not her voice or her touch or her laughter or her perfume.

"Mother," the woman replied, "is a strong word."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, feeling slightly relieved that this imposter didn't want to claim me as her daughter. "And what - what talents?"

"Talents," said the goddess(?), conveniently ignoring my first question, "like the last minute defense you threw up to save yourself from that gorgon." She sounded a little disgusted but also pleased. I, on the other hand, was one hundred percent confused. And then, a rather disturbing combination of greed and anticipation slid into her voice. "And that - Amara, _that_ was a subconscious effort! That was mediocre! _Child's play_!" I was flinching back. The excitement in her voice seemed somehow grotesque. "If only you were genuine - your power is considerable."

"Genuine?"

"And regarding your earlier question -" my heart seized in anticipation "- I've come to offer some assistance. You can hardly serve me with no means of funding or transportation."

I indignantly spat, "Serv -?"

"Your answer is," she paused, "four trees to the left and straight on until morning."

I swear on the River Styx you could have heard a pin drop. "You're kidding?" I asked, feeling that everything else was overshadowed by that particularly absurd statement. "You're joking."

"I would take the hint, Amara Easterling," said the woman, who was apparently turned away from me. Her voice was muffled, anyways. "The useless aren't likely to survive what's to come, so make yourself useful and do as you're told. Besides, this is good for you. How do you expect to succeed in your mission if you don't have any money? It's what runs the world, after all."

"But you expect me to believe that money is in the fourth tree to the left?" I asked disbelievingly, tasting blood when my face was firmly gripped. Stunned, I turned my head to throw off the fingers, spitting the startlingly coppery liquid in a spray on the ground beside me. Was grabbing my face going to be her go-to way of reprimanding me?

As if on cue, though there was no blow to cause it, I felt my body go soaring backward as if on its own accord. When I landed, my bones seemed to rattle with the impact. As far as I could tell, though, all that had happened was that I'd gotten the wind knocked out of me. "I never intended for our relationship to start this way, but I suppose I'll have to end this by saying that everyone is replaceable, i _ncluding you._ " My breath caught. Surely she couldn't mean that she intended to end me, right there? Right then? _Why couldn't I just shut up? Why don't I learn?_ My dad had always hated any momentary lapse into sarcasm, too, believing it disrespectful. Apparently, years of suppressed humor were looking for a way out, and I just had terrible timing. Where I'd been unable to breathe before, I now couldn't stop taking shallow, rapid breaths. _Please please pleaseplease pleasepleaseplease, please -_

"I'm sorry, I just -"

"Silence," she ordered, her voice ice cold and somehow livid. My eyes seemed to be betraying me; they were getting rather misty again. I was also admittedly an inch away from pissing myself. "Find the money and go west. You must find the Lord of the Underworld."

"But I can't -"

She cut me off, and I had the strangest feeling that she was staring right at me, looking over her shoulder as she left me behind. "But you will."

* * *

I woke up, and I could _see_.

It seemed to be a bit dark, but I could make things out reasonably well. It was a welcome difference from the earlier darkness, but for some reason, I couldn't make myself feel happy about it. Why? _Oh, yeah. Because we have no money, almost no food, and no idea how to reach LA, except for that stupid hint - what was it?_ Four trees to the fuckin' left and straight on until morning. _Right. Thanks._

I stumbled up. Percy seemed to have fallen asleep, and Annabeth had taken over watch duty. I wondered whether we should even pay any heed to the stupid hint, but it seemed like the best bet we had. As far as I knew, we had no other options. And it wasn't like Percy and Annabeth were in touch with _their_ parents. _Dammit._ "Annabeth, we need to go."

She started and pulled her dagger on me, then sagged with relief. "Don't d - hey! Can you see now? Your eyes still don't…"

Her voice trailed off and I fought back disappointment. I had never considered myself a vain person, but I didn't want to be ugly, and I had a bad feeling that Percy had pretty much euphemized everything for me. _Are they really that bad?_ I remembered the cringe-worthy image I'd conjured and tried to replace it with something a little worse, but I couldn't. My upper incisors cut into my lip. "Yes," I answered, " but that isn't the most important thing now. Percy, up." I nudged him gently with my foot until he began to stir.

Annabeth grabbed my arm, and I looked up, pinning her under my gaze. "I think we should have a look at your eyes first. I mean - if they're not completely recovered…" I understood. To her, this was a study. She was probably very curious as to how… whatever had happened, happened, and why it was no longer an issue. The state of them probably interested her, too. She was a child of Athena; the tendency to seek knowledge and intelligence came naturally and I could not fault her for that. Still, I wasn't a pawn and I wasn't an experiment either. I didn't want the damage to be gawked at. _I_ didn't want to be gawked at, like some kind of a freak show.

"No." I nudged her off none-too-gently as Percy began to unstick himself from the blankets. He seemed to have been stuck to the ground by his own drool but was slowly recovering. The bottoms of his eyes drooped and were tinged with pale grey.

"Wutrweeedoooon?" he asked through a massive yawn. "What're we doing?" he clarified when Annabeth raised her eyebrows, giving him a look of irritation that he couldn't have known was misdirected.

"Yeah," Annabeth agreed. "What _are_ we doing? It's barely even three or four in the morning." She glanced worriedly around us, like she was afraid something would pounce now that no one was really watching. "I know we've only got a few days, but we need rest."

"I know where to go," I answered, "sort of." My eyes flicked to the tree I'd been leaning against. It was, disgustingly, covered in grey-green moss and ants. I absently brushed the back of my neck, fearing that I'd find a spider or something, and then started walking towards the tree. _And straight on until morning,_ I thought, walking around it and then continuing on at a leisurely pace as I woke. "This way."

"But _where_ are we going?" Annabeth asked waspishly.

"To get some supplies," I answered coolly.

"What do you mean?" Annabeth asked. She stopped in her tracks, as did I, and crossed her arms. "You can't be planning for us to steal something. We're probably in the papers already."

"But there's no way we can do this without some money," Percy disagreed, though he also looked conflicted. "And I'm sure… Amara won't have us stealing." He looked at me for confirmation, and I realized this was a key moment. He was judging me, and this was my chance to prove that I wasn't a bad egg. But a friendship with Percy was never really my goal, even though it would be a plus.

" _I_ won't have us stealing anything," I swore, though Annabeth was grating on my nerves a little. Surely she'd stolen things while she was one the run. Had she turned her back on the lifestyle or something? Was she all _righteous_ now? _How very_ noble _of her,_ I thought sarcastically, grinding my teeth as I started walking again.

"Then what will we be doing?" Percy asked.

"I'm not sure," I confessed. "My -" I thought of whether or not I wanted someone to try and induce the identity of my mother at this point. What if it led to me becoming an outcast or mistrusted? But it would also ease my curiosity… "My mother or something sent me."

"Your mother?" Annabeth asked interestedly. I smirked. Apparently, all of my wrongs were forgiven. It had been made clear in the books that Annabeth was the type of person that had to grow on you, but it was becoming glaringly obvious now. In spite of that, she was obviously a good friend and a useful ally. Plus, I was a hardcore Percabeth shipper. Here I was, seeing the beginnings of it all. "Who is she?"

"Don't know," I answered. "I couldn't see her, and she wouldn't use her name besides." A few details shot through my skull like arrows, and I knew I'd have to ponder them. _Later._

"You dreamed about her," she muttered, and I turned to see her placing her thumb on her soft lower lip in thought, her intense grey eyes jarring. "Tell us about it."

"I - no," I decided quickly, admittedly for no other reason than that she'd dubbed it appropriate to order me around. I couldn't stand nonsense like that from somebody younger than me. Besides, the more I thought about it, the more of her comments seemed so… odd. I needed time to ponder it on my own.

"You need to trust your friends, Amara," she said quietly, genuinely.

I clenched my fists. Chaos followed these two everywhere, and I wanted no part of it. I was already facing a lot of risks and had already lost a lot. Besides that, I was practically indebted to both of them - no, not practically. Really indebted. A friendship would be awkward. At the same time, I wasn't sure how to deny the idea without being rude. My fingers twitched as I thought, and I finally settled with, "I don't make friends easily."

"Don't you want to know who she is?"

"I do, but now isn't the time," I answered, pushing through more trees. "Maybe you should save your breath. We'll be walking a long while." I could tell both of them wanted to ask where we were going again, but it was thankfully silent except for the sound of twigs breaking beneath their shoes.

We had walked quite a ways when someone finally decided to say something. I wondered if several minutes or an hour or two hours had passed, since I could see the beginnings of light gleaming on the horizon. "We can't take a bus," Percy sagely informed us. He still sounded groggy, even after walking for so long, but I was tired, too. He and Annabeth had probably gotten just about the same amount of sleep as I had, if not less. We were all dragging our feet at this point.

"No," I agreed.

"There's a train station," Annabeth said. "If we had money…" Her voice trailed off. None of us wanted to think about that, especially since I was supposedly leading us towards money with no real idea as to where it would be from and how we'd get it. Needless to say, it was a little off-putting.

"Well, there's supposedly money this way," I told them tiredly.

"Are you sure that's what your mom said?" Percy asked.

"Mother," I corrected, "and yes."

I wondered how much longer we needed to walk. I could already see that the sun was rising, the top of the golden orb peeking over the blurred horizon. Even the smallest slits of light that escaped through the gaps in the trees seemed to blind me. Maybe we'd been walking for hours, but I was still tired, and still not ready for whatever was to come. I just hoped that, for once, things would be simple.

Unfortunately, it was quickly decided that this was not to be. "Do we have any apples left?" Annabeth asked, stomach growling.

"Yeah," I answered. grabbing one from the pocket of my bag and tossing it in her general direction. I heard her crunching away at it as we walked and exhaustedly rubbed my eyes. _Any day now,_ I thought, dragging my feet.

"Do we have any doughnuts?" I stopped, turned around, and looked at Percy, who was grinning like he'd done something simultaneously brilliant and hilarious. He beamed; I stared some more.

"I think I left them in my other pants," I finally said, turning again.

Instead of laughing or something, Percy sucked in a breath of anticipation. "We have twenty dollars. Twenty dollars is enough for doughnuts."

"Percy," chided Annabeth, "we're in the middle of the - oh!" She sounded more unsettled than anything. I felt my heart sinking in dread; this all sounded a little familiar. Hadn't something a little similar happened in The Sea of Monsters? Still, I looked back at Percy to see him pointing at an area where patches of color shone through the spaces between the trunks of trees, where I could just begin to make out a sign. I could only see portions of the sign, but I had a feeling that it said 'Monster Donuts'.

"We - we should scram," I muttered, but it was so quiet that I doubted anyone else caught any of it. My eyes flit towards the thin canopy above. The woods around us were now thick enough that I couldn't see the exact position of the sun, but judging by the sky alone, it was definitely morning. Was it possible that we were supposed to ransack a Monster Donut? Monsters and all? "I think," I said a little louder. "I bet this is where we're supposed to get our money."

"You want to rob a doughnut shop?" Percy asked, sounding bewildered and a little exasperated.

"It isn't like that, Percy," said Annabeth, though she too sounded hesitant. "Think about this for a minute. Why would they build a chain restaurant in the middle of the woods like that?" I could see some fresh-looking, dark grey asphalt in a slit between the trees, but no white paint. A drive through, I supposed. "There are a lot of franchises like that across the world. Some of them are connected to the life force of a monster, which enables them to pop up all over the place."

Percy took in the set of her mouth and the positioning of her eyebrows and seemed more serious, but doubtful. I mean, I understood. Apparently, he'd shopped at Monster Donuts before. He wasn't exactly worse off for it, was he? Except for that persistent layer of baby fat, he'd prevailed over any Monster doughnuts he'd had before. "Is that some kind of conspiracy theory?" Percy said. "I mean, I've known… mortals who went into a Monster Donuts and they turned out fine."

"Yeah, but not every restaurant actually has monsters in it - that's what we call a nest," Annabeth told us. I knew more, but I couldn't exactly say anything, so I just shut up and listened. "And a lot of monsters coexist with mortals; not all, but some." I thought about Mrs. Dodds. She'd pretty much gotten on with everyone but the people to whom her identity mattered. "You might have walked into a restaurant run by all monsters and not known about it; not that any of us could get away with that now."

"Wait," said the son of Poseidon, alarmed, "are you saying that McDonald's is off limits now?"

Annabeth shook her head. "No, it's mostly the regional stuff you need to be worried about. Clover Food Lab, Pizza Rustica, Kerr Drug. You know."

I frowned, my eyes narrowing in recognition. "Kerr Drug is a pharmaceutical company, and they got bought out by Walgreens."

She carefully looked me over, her lips pressing together in consideration. "That's the Mist at work. Some demigods were responsible for exterminating the root of the chain, since they were concerned it would spread."

"Wait, what?" Percy asked, now totally confused. "How did you know all of that, anyways?"

"I knew some people who worked there," I answered thoughtlessly, feeling a little disturbed and turning my back to them to stare at the restaurant. I really didn't want to go in there. Being attacked by a hydra was not how I wanted to jump start my day, especially since none of us had gotten any sleep. But the fact was that all the clues had lead me here. This was where my… my _mother_ wanted me to go. It was our only way west, since we had only twenty dollars and a few apples to get us all the way there. "So are you thinking this is one of those nests?"

"With this placement?" Annabeth answered. "Yeah."

"So no donuts," Percy said miserably.

"You've spent too much time with Grover," I berated.

"What kind of monsters are in there?" Percy asked, rolling his eyes at me.

"I don't know," Annabeth said. "It could be anything from dracanae to cyclops. But I have a theory that the reason this one formed out in the middle of nowhere is because it's tied to the life force of a weaker monster. Maybe that means the nest will be small or weak. Or both," she added hopefully.

 _Yeah, right._ Apparently, my bringer of misfortune was at least partially responsible for bringing us here, so it likely wasn't free lunch. Besides, in book two, they were attacked by a frigging hydra, and that Monster Donut was in the middle of the woods, too. Not to mention that there hadn't been any divine intervention there at all, as far as I remembered. "Doubtful."

"What?" Percy asked.

"Uh," I muttered, caught off guard. "Just… that with our luck that doesn't seem probable."

"Maybe we shouldn't go for this," Annabeth muttered warily.

"I'm certain this is where my dream lead me," I insisted vehemently, my hand balling in and out of a fist. "My… parent said to come here. There's enough money to get us west." _Parent._ That was a more comfortable word to use. It was the impersonal type that popped up in letters from school and didn't imply guardianship as much as some other terms may have. Parent - I'd stick with it. It gave me some anonymity besides.

Annabeth turned to Percy, and so did I. I, at least, was awaiting his input. Percy was the leader of this quest, after all, and had the power to say that we couldn't pursue this any longer. That didn't really mean I'd listen to him, and Annabeth would probably be relieved but conflicted. But instead of saying we should leave, he said, "We might have to try. We don't have any other way to get money, and if Annabeth's hunch is right, we might be okay."

"We're all exhausted," Annabeth decided, apparently deciding to play the devil's advocate. "But maybe… what exactly did your mother say?"

This was going to sound completely retarded. They would get the abridged version. "She told me to go this direction until morning."

Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "But what exactly -"

"It was a dream, Annabeth," Percy cut in. "Several hours ago. And all that we really need to know is that there's money here. Unless there was something else?" He stared at me, eyes begging me to be honest, so I shook my head.

"All she really said about this was that our money was here. Otherwise, I would have said something earlier," I said honestly, since this excursion was actually their business. "Actually, if I'd known we might have to face off with a nest of monsters, I might not have done anything at all. Y'know - let us get the money another way." A meek smile slid onto my face. There probably was another way. _We could have found that dog and gotten the reward. It was a freaking toy poodle - we didn't need its permission for that. But_ no _\- I just had to decide that since Grover wasn't here, there was no chance of that. I'm such an idiot._

I was apparently convincing enough that they were appeased. Percy gave a slow bob of his head. "We need a plan," declared Annabeth, "if we're going to do this."

"So no running in, guns blazing?" I asked sarcastically. They both snorted and I glanced at the restaurant, feeling overtaken by dread. I really didn't want to head that direction. I sort of wished I'd been reincarnated as a monster (but a cool one; you know, Tokyo Ghoul type stuff) so I could just pull a more traditional heist and then leave. Instead, I was a half-blood, with other half-bloods, and we'd likely be mobbed the minute we set foot on the premises.

"I _think_ that would be a bad idea," Annabeth said, returning my sarcasm with equal enthusiasm. "We need to figure out what type of monsters are in there. That's crucial to deciding how we take the place down." She glanced over at the Monster Donut.

"But how can we tell?" Percy asked. "I thought you said you didn't know."

"I don't," Annabeth assented, tensing her squared jaw as she flicked a stunning blond curl from her face. "So… we should plan to combat the strongest monsters we can think of."

"How many?" Percy wondered. His imagination was apparently going through all sorts of uncharted territory, because he was looking increasingly bothered. Maybe he thought the place would be chock full of gorgons or something.

"Based on the location, maybe two. Or three." She licked her lips. I noticed she didn't seem happy about this conclusion. Even if it was two, the odds weren't exactly in our favor. "And I think we should plan on something like Medusa." Her eyes flickered to me, and then away, like she was worried she'd offended me. "Not that it would actually be her. But something that clever, and with that much allure."

To her credit, Medusa had been one clever bitch. Either that or she was really talented with the Mist. But it was more likely both. Her plan to bring us in had worked like a charm, and she'd almost killed me. "Those burgers were pretty good," Percy confessed, looking dreamy but a little disappointed. Annabeth and I nodded. First steak, and now doughnuts. Would it never -

 _Wait._

"Burgers?" I asked, raising a single brow and pursing my lips. That was what had been in the book, but still. "I had a steak."

"A steak?" Annabeth echoed my previous tone.

"Yeah, exactly how I like it, too. Still mooing, drenched in A1," I said, feeling deeply disturbed by the notion that I'd actually eaten a cheeseburger doused in ketchup… or something. _Anything._ I felt myself beginning to retch. "What did you have? Steak, right? Definitely -"

"I had hot dogs," Annabeth said. "Two of them. Ballparks with mayonnaise." I nodded my respect, semi-glad that I'd found somebody else who liked some quality mayonnaise. Unfortunately, I also felt like throwing up.

"What do you think she actually gave us?" said Percy, looking ill.

Annabeth looked equally disgusted and shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever it was, it was probably disguised by the Mist."

"So you're saying that it could have been anything?" I was totally horrified that my original conclusion was probably right. I felt my stomach turn and twist in place and slapped a clammy hand over my lips. "And it was probably drugged…"

"If we have some kind of depressant or whatever in our bloodstream," said Percy, pulling a face, "maybe we should avoid this fight."

"We did okay with Medusa," Annabeth pointed out.

"I didn't," I reminded them, feeling rather ashamed, and needing again to see the damage to my eyes.

Percy looked sympathetic. It was a given that, ever loyal to the people he trusted, he was going to try and help. "It wasn't that bad."

"It was," I disagreed. "But Annabeth's point is still kind of valid. Once we actually realized what was going on, we were fine. I think that whatever the drug was either didn't last very long or wasn't strong. Or maybe it was just the Mist. Either way, none of us seem sluggish now, and I think we have to get this money and go. Otherwise, we'll be stranded here and fail the quest."

"If we decide this is a bad idea, we're probably stuck with hitchhiking," Annabeth noted.

Percy shook his head. "You're right. I think we should go ahead with this. But if things get too bad -"

"We ditch," I finished. "And somehow _hitchhike_ our way west." That would be a lot of cars. A lot of people. And undoubtedly plenty of chances to run into a pervert. Percy had probably realized that too. After all, the kid wasn't stupid. Percy was a lot cleverer than the books sometimes portrayed him to be. I think it's because Percy is the narrator and, viewing his own actions in hindsight, he sees things that he wishes he could change and it causes the story to come off a little differently. Changes how you first see his character.

 _No matter. He isn't a character anymore._

"Right," Percy agreed.

"So what's the plan?" I asked, and both Percy and I looked automatically at our resident strategist, Annabeth Chase, who was obviously the most likely candidate of us three to come up with a plan that would end up with all three of us leaving unharmed and with enough money to get to LA.

"I think it's best if we catch them off-guard," she said immediately, pursing her lips. "Unfortunately, they're not out in the open, so we'll have to go into the restaurant to attack them. That makes us lose some of the advantage, but…"

"But?" I echoed after a moment.

"We can send one person in to place an order," she finished, "and then the rest of us can go in after, when the monsters initiate an attack. That brings back our element of surprise. It's like an ambush."

"And also risky," I said, licking my upper lip as the hairs on my neck rose. _Alarm, I guess. Thanks for this whole situation, Mom._

"Is there any other way?" Percy asked. "Would it really be so bad for all three of us to go in at once?"

"If all three of us go in at once, it will be a lot more obvious that there are demigods on the premises," she insisted. "They'll attack us as a group a lot faster than they'll attack one of us." I compared this to what I knew from the books, and it rang true. Monsters liked to talk. "Besides that, if one person goes inside and discovers that the monsters aren't things we should be able to handle, then they'll be the only one at risk unless the other two jump in and help."

"It's kind of heartless," I said, and when Annabeth looked ready to protest, added, "but it makes sense. Who's going in, though?"

Not even a second passed. "I'll do it," Percy said, sounding resigned.

"No," I said flatly. "I will."

"Why?" he asked. "Is it because I'm supposed to - to be the big _hero_ or something?" He seemed exasperated. I let my gaze flit away and met eyes with Annabeth, whose expression held a certain sorrow that I knew must match my own. I thought her eyes might have narrowed for a moment, though I thought nothing of it, deeming it unimportant. _You have no idea, Percy._

"Something like that," I answered, rolling my eyes. "Besides that, son of one of the Big Three? I'm sure you reek. Don't fight me on this one, please."

He looked mildly offended, but he didn't contest me, and neither did Annabeth.

"Okay, so you'll go in and Percy and I will hang around where we can see what's going on and what we're up against," Annabeth reiterated. I nodded, but I was also kind of losing my prior bravado. Hopefully, we weren't _up against_ a couple of hydra, because then I was dead. "Place an order. By this point, they'll probably be sizing you up, so you should be okay. Is your acting decent?" _Again: you have_ no _idea._ I nodded. "Just stay calm, even if you do say something. They'll eventually attack; probably as you're leaving and your back is turned."

"Typical," Percy interjected, and I held back a giggle.

"At that point, you should probably be prepared to take at least one monster out as quickly as possible. Your shotgun is mostly hidden by your backpack and behind your -"

"Shh," I hissed, feeling terror rush through my very bones. I held my finger to my lips in a childlike gesture.

"What?" snapped Annabeth.

"Listen," I whispered, shushing her again.

"I don't hear anything," Percy said over the clear sound of a twig snapping. Worse yet, Annabeth seemed to have missed it, too. _You have to be patient with them. They didn't grow up hunting._

"Shh."

We stood in silence, wary and afraid - even the bravest of us (and that definitely wasn't me). My muscles were tense, and my breathing totally silent. Still, I could hear Percy panting over the _snap, crack, crunch_ of someone getting closer.

 _Snap._ "I hear it," Annabeth whispered.

"Me too," agreed Percy, "but what -"

There was a final snap as a weedy looking redhead boy stepped into view. He looked mildly annoyed rather than creeped out, and frankly, he _should_ have been creeped out. He was wearing a pair of khakis and a red shirt, which had 'MONSTER DONUTS' printed near the chest. His face was donned with a pair of wire-framed glasses, and his dark skin was covered in a smattering of swelling pimples. His shoes were worn but otherwise nice, like the kind my mom made my brother wear to church. "What are you doing sneaking around the restaurant?" the 'boy' asked, taking a deep breath and making an unappealing wet noise.

I cringed, my nose wrinkling, but said, "Um, we were deciding what to order. Are you guys open?" _There goes our element of surprise._

"Yeah," said the boy, still looking very irritated by the fact that any of us had the nerve to exist, especially within thirty feet of his restaurant. "Come on and I'll put your order together."

"You go get it," Annabeth said casually. "We'll wait out here."

"Cool," I said, frowning back at them. "OH! I'll need the money."

"I've got it," Percy said, handing me a twenty.

"Thanks," I said, and then followed after the gangly employee, my guard up as we walked, heart full of dread. There was no doubt in my mind that our plan had been foiled, and thanks to my not being able to shut up, I was stuck with following this guy, whatever he was, to my doom. This was not going too well. And now, I had to come up with a plan on a whim, and hope it didn't ruin whatever Percy and Annabeth decided to do. Not to mention that the book wasn't exactly going to help me in this instance. _Fourth tree to the left and straight on until fu - thanks,_ Mother. _Very helpful._

I didn't even know what I was dealing with at the moment, but I assessed his height and decided that he was probably a giant or something. The thought made me nauseous, but I wasn't even going to try to look past the Mist in the hopes of disproving myself this time. What if that somehow alerted monsters that I was onto them? After all, supposedly more monsters came after demigods who knew as little as their demigod lineage alone. What if being aware of a monster's presence or appearance had the same effect?

No sounds came from behind me. Were Annabeth and Percy still standing in the trees?

The employee lead me into the building. It smelled good, like Krispy Kreme original donuts when they're fresh and hot, and the glaze burns your mouth but it's too good to stop eating. It was kind of intoxicating and reminded me in a bad way of Medusa's lair. Not that there was a good way to remember it, but no matter. The point is that it was nice. It smelled good, the displayed pastries looked delicious, there was coffee, and the place was neat. It didn't seem like the kind of place that would be infested with monsters, but it was. Don't judge a book by its cover, I guess.

From the instant the door closed behind me, chill bumps broke out on my arms and the back of my neck. I was trapped, and no way was I turning my back on the Monster employee to look through the glass. If Annabeth and Percy were following, I wouldn't know about it. I wondered when I'd be attacked, since I undoubtedly would at some point. _Go through this logically,_ I thought desperately as I dug my hands in my pocket and the unknown monster slid behind the counter. He pulled some clear, baggy plastic gloves that stuck to his hands. "What do you want?" he asked dryly.

 _If they kill you in here, Annabeth and Percy would be suspicious when I didn't show up. They'd either attack the restaurant or leave before the monsters attack them, too. But that's only if my employee doesn't realize we suspect him, and I think he does. He probably expects the others to attack, so he might want to get me out of the way as soon as possible so he and his pals don't have to split their focus so much later._ "Um… any specials?"

 _So I have to be prepared to defend myself here and now. Got it. But I should consider other possibilities too._ The employee sighed exasperatedly. "Buy one dozen, get another half off. Or if you buy a bucket of assorted donut holes, you get three donuts free." _It's a possibility that he'll attack me while I'm walking away carefree with my donuts, or maybe he has friends outside waiting for me._ "Also, as a part of our Super Summer Special, all Seasonal pastries are half off to students."

"High school students?" I asked, buying time. He had one friend inside. He was working in the kitchen, and glaring at me through the little glassless window to the left of the display.

"Yeah, whatever," the employee said emotionlessly. Something about his image flickered, and I put my eyes away from him for a moment.

"I'll get the donut holes, then, with three original," I muttered, and he nodded, stoic as he had been since we'd arrived inside. I glanced through the window at the other Monster employee. Over the sound of the redhead dumping something inside of a container, I could hear running water. I guessed the second employee was washing the dishes. I imagined him wiping the blood from a massive knife and felt my heart rate shoot up.

Now, the other guy's image was flickering. For a moment, something very blue appeared in the center of his face. I very nearly swore, and as if in sync with me, he did - aloud. "Son of a bitch," he said, very simply and calmly, as if nothing was wrong at all, but I could see steam rising up from where the sink must have been. I saw the monster withdraw his hands from the sink and retreat towards the back, away from me. I supposed I was lucky - now I had only one Cyclops to keep an eye on.

Pardon the pun.

My employee slammed a bucket full of white, chocolate, and sort of pink colored donut holes on the counter. "What do you want with that?"

"Um, three chocolate iced," I said, rubbing my arms. Oddly enough, my goosebumps were gone. _Now that I'm thinking about it, it's gotten a little warmer in here._ The employee sighed and turned back towards the display. He grabbed three donuts and sat them on top of the donut holes, and then wiped his gloved hand across his brow. He was sweating - and so was I.

 _Okay, a lot hotter._

The sound of running water began again, suddenly, but the other Cyclops had not reappeared in the window. _Percy._ What the hell was he doing? Playing with the taps? Steam began to fill the room, and probably at a much faster rate than it should have. I suddenly felt that the Monster employee in front of me had gotten a bit bigger - filled in some - and heard an unearthly growl emanate from his throat. Seconds had passed, but I could make out little else than his silhouette and a great green eye through the shroud of fog. "What have you done, half-blood?" he asked menacingly.

Almost mindlessly, I grabbed the bucket of donuts and backed up two paces. The cowardice within began to bubble up to the surface. "I-I didn't do _anything,_ " I blurted. Any second now, my feet would either be glued to the floor or I'd be tempted to turn my back and run. _He'll get you._ "I -"

The bell at the door rang. "Amara, get out of there!" It was Annabeth. I craned my neck and there she was, leaning inside and holding the door open. Fog billowed throughout the room and over her form. The Cyclops let out a yowl, and a cracking sound echoed from the kitchen along with a wail of pain. I didn't question it. I ran out after her.

Twenty seconds later, there was an almost exaggeratedly loud roar and bang. Some of the windows of the building exploded outwards, peppering the ground with peppered glass. I turned; something had shot clear through the roof and was leaving a jet of steam and mist in its wake. Debris shot all over the place, landing in the trees above our heads and smashing into the ground. I thought it was probably safe to say that the Cyclopes were dead. "Where's Percy?" I gasped worriedly as we came to a stop.

"Here," he answered, and it took him a minute to emerge from the trees to our left. The three of us gasped as we slowly came down from adrenaline rushes.

"The hot water heater," I said, shaking my head. "Creative."

"Annabeth," credited Percy, flashing a grin at her.

"I wasn't sure if the hot water heater would give us all the power we needed," said Annabeth, brushing the hair from her face, "but with Percy, it was just enough."

"Incredible," I sighed. Reading about it and seeing it in person were clearly two different things. Explosions caused by hot water heaters were bad, but not that bad. Not even close. But Percy had practically blown out the roof, and killed the Cyclopes in the process. I was even further in his debt.

Something would have to be done about Smelly Gabe.

"Did you get the money?" asked Annabeth. And, of course, I hadn't been thinking about it. I'd been too concerned about getting out alive. After our plan had been ruined, I'd had no idea what to do. So now we were off track, had _no_ money, and no way to get west.

I did a copious amount of swearing.

Percy looked a little scandalized, but then said, "It's fine. We all got a little off track -"

"But it isn't fine," I disagreed, "because now we're _stuck_ here. We don't even know where we are!"

"We'll have to find another way…" Annabeth muttered.

The moment passed in silence as we all thought and fumed. (Well, I fumed.) I couldn't believe what a screw-up I was. Everything I'd done so far had been nothing more than a detriment to our quest. I'd said they should have brought someone else. _Clearly, I was correct in saying so._ "Guys, watch out!" Percy cried, seemingly out of nowhere. I looked up in time to see him jerk on my shirtsleeve, and probably Annabeth's too, since we both gracefully fell two feet backward and on our asses.

Annabeth, predictably, was pissed. "Percy, what -"

And then we heard the branches above us cracking. I rose to my feet and looked up, where something blocking the sunlight seemed to be falling through the foliage. Whatever the thing was, it had some substance to it; some of the limbs were bending under its weight. Its volume wasn't large, though, and this anomaly made more sense the lower it got. It was metal. And, as a matter of fact, it was beginning to dawn on me exactly _what_ it was even before it fell on the ground where Annabeth had been sitting before. I wondered whether I should laugh or cry hysterically.

Annabeth exhaled weakly. "It's…"

"The cash register," Percy finished.

"Well," I said, "thank the gods for Percy's firepower, then."

* * *

 _WOW THAT WAS LONG. Don't expect other chapters of this length. In fact, the next chapter will probahly seem very short in comparison to this one._

 _Anyways, what do you think? I think I'm going to schedule the next update for the 23rd, but I'll update the Saturday before if I get... hm... sixteen reviews!_

 _Till then!_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

I sighed. My stomach turned. I kind of felt like throwing up. "Are you a claustrophobe or something?" asked Annabeth conversationally. She was cheerful, beaming, her hair gleaming gold in the dim light, and she leaned casually against the wall as we slid slowly up into space. She seemed oddly carefree. I sort of felt good for her, but I was also irritated. Shouldn't she have been more suspicious? Paranoid? _Except that it isn't paranoia when there's actually somebody after you._

Yikes. _Can we not think about that, please? Please?_

 _Cool, cool._

"No," I answered shortly. Of course I wasn't a claustrophobe. I'd been through many a long drive in a car crammed full of all my six-person family. I'd been in plenty of elevators full of people. I'd hidden in closets, under beds and couches. I wasn't a claustrophobe. Except that maybe I was now. Maybe things like elevators had lost their childish appeal. How could they have any? I knew that Percy was about to be attacked just below us, after all. In a small space like this, we were defenseless. We couldn't exactly rely on evasion to keep us out of trouble. There would be no 'flight' in fight or flight. All the fighting would be close range, and even worse, there would be other people at risk. Not just me. One wrong move, and innocents died.

 _Yes._

I had decided to let this all play out. Everything that happened with the chimera and Echidna had to happen exactly as it did in the books. They needed to. Percy needed to jump into the river so that he could get the message and the pearls. _You know, our ride out of the Underworld?_ And I knew that. I really did. But at the same time, something inside me absolutely itched to get involved. I knew it was impossible now that I was in the elevator with Annabeth, but I was sort of overtaken by regret. I wished I'd just gone with Percy. I felt like a coward for not getting involved when I knew that Percy was going to be envenomated. When I knew that he was going to plummet to the raging waters of the river, expecting to slam into the asphalt surface and shatter into a million unfixable pieces.

It disturbed me. I felt like some kind of scared, helpless moron.

But I wasn't. I'd made the right choice. _I did, didn't I?_

"It's nice to take this break, right?" Annabeth said, changing the subject and probably for the sake of my comfort. As much as I hated to admit it, I sort of appreciated being babied. Thinking about my involvement in all of this was… _heavy._ That was the word. Like a weight on my soul. I missed my family. I was scared of dying. I was scared of other people dying.

But I knew it would happen.

"Yeah, definitely," I agreed. After all, it was a break for Annabeth and I even if it wasn't for Percy. A two-and-a-half hour break, but still a break. It was a time to look over the beauty of St. Louis (which was still up in the air for me) and relax. Annabeth and I would not be attacked by monsters. From here on out, it wouldn't be that way. I needed to enjoy it.

"Are ya'll on vacation?" asked a smiling bleach blonde woman on the other side of the elevator. "Cross country trip?"

"We're part of a gifted and intelligent summer program," I bragged smoothly. "We're doing a cultural analysis of cities across the US." It seemed like a possibility to me. At least a little.

"Wow, that's neat," the woman said, her smile widening a little. I was a little creeped out, but smiles had always put me off. Besides, nothing actually happened to Annabeth, so I was in the clear. "You know, when I was in school, it was a lot harder to get into that stuff. It just wasn't available, you know? I'm glad the system has improved since then." She gestured with her hands as she spoke, and her ruby ring caught in the light. It matched her sweater.

I was under the impression that the American school system sucked, but I nodded. Annabeth replied, "Yeah, we got scholarships from our school. Some of the institutions of New York came together to make some of this trip possible for the best students. We're really lucky." _Oh. Covering expenses. Good call, Annabeth._

"I wouldn't have come if it wasn't for the scholarship," I said. "It's expensive, you know?"

"Absolutely," the woman said. "Plane tickets are so expensive these days. But I assume you're taking a bus?"

"Yup," I agreed.

"And some of the older students are carpooling," added Annabeth.

"I imagine it will look good on a college transcript," the lady said, flicking some of her blonde old lady hair from her face. "You kids are young. Does anything you do now matter on a college transcript?"

I looked at Annabeth. "Some of it," she said.

"Maybe you'll be out of high school early," the woman suggested.

"I wish," I sighed, drawing laughs from a young man in the compartment with us.

"High school will be the best or the worst years of your life, kiddo," he said.

"So I've heard," commented Annabeth. I, on the other hand, rolled my eyes, having known very few people who had actually enjoyed high school. Additionally, those who claimed they had would often also say, 'Yeah, you couldn't give me all the money in the world to go back there!' I mean, make up your minds, guys.

"I've heard the views up top are great," the man commented.

"They are," agreed the woman. She was still smiling. _Geez._ "I've been before. I think you kids will really enjoy it."

I nodded in agreement, though I couldn't really imagine myself gazing out the window at that point in time. I was already becoming distracted again, knowing what was going on with Percy. Had it happened already? Had he already jumped from the elevator?

The conversation seemed to have died down as we were released onto the observation deck, the elevator doors sliding open as we and the more quiet passengers hurried out. Most gazed through the windows and stared intently at their view of St. Louis, but my stomach was quaking and I could only absently eye one of the windows and out at the sky. I noted the beginnings of some dry heaving and sighed, pushing it back and taking a deep, quiet breath. I looked out the window without looking, instead waiting patiently for our ride down.

But that was when I remembered that when Percy encountered the Chimera, he was with Annabeth. Which meant I was probably also here.

Also, I had the strangest feeling that whoever'd given us our free money wouldn't be interfering here.

If I moved toward the exit, even gradually, and something bad happened, Annabeth would be suspicious. She was a sharp cookie - clever and quick. She'd notice the instant I did anything even a little off. I'd have to stay up here, unless I could think of something mildly clever. I knew it was chicken of me to try and sneak out, but the Chimera scared the crap out of me. Somehow, the fact that it was so aggressive, and uninterested in trying to fool us like Medusa had, made it more intimidating.

When did the fight even happen, anyways? I couldn't remember. I thought it was in the tram, but now that I'd been in one myself, it seemed too small for a real fight. Was it possible that the fight would go down on the observation deck?

Now I _really_ wanted to go ahead down.

That's when the doors to Percy's tram opened up, as it had apparently reached us, unleashing -

Nothing. Just a fat old woman, her dog, Percy, and a couple weedy dudes with fancy cameras.

I eyed fatso for a moment and then turned away. She was monumentally creep just in that she seemed to stare at everything like it was made out of meet. My nose wrinkled at the thought. Stomach upset, I stared more at the view - which, when I looked, didn't interested Echidna at all. "You know, Amara," Annabeth confided, "if I could rework this place, I'd give it a see-through floor. Low iron glass - the works. It'd be incredible."

"But isn't it just rock and grass directly below us?" I asked uneasily, sneaking another glance at the fat lady. I could see that something was wrong about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Her… eyes? "What's the point?"

"It's more so people can appreciate the arch i _tself,_ " Annabeth stressed.

"Oh," I replied. "Okay."

"I think I'd make the windows bigger too," she said, and I nodded in agreement, though I was scarcely hearing what she was saying. Who cared about windows? We were about to be attacked. What if I screwed up again? I breathed deeply and rubbed my eyes.

I was too tired to deal with this crap. I needed some sleep. Real sleep.

Once again, I thought back to the Monster Donut and what had happened there. Would we face some repetition, or were we doomed to the events as listed in the book.

I frowned. For some reason, I hadn't written much about this in the notebook. To be honest, in the long list of all Percy's fights, this one was both short and insignificant. It was the results of the fight that were important. That's probably why I didn't remember. Still, it was annoying.

I had the tiniest inkling that Annabeth wasn't involved, and I didn't recall Grover doing anything stupidly heroic. But I didn't recall much of Percy either. He got bitten, I recalled, and jumped out of the river. As far as I was concerned, that was all there was to it. Maybe that was my problem.

"The observation deck closes in a few minutes," announced the ranger standing by the elevators.

Almost immediately, Percy began to nudge us in that direction. Annabeth had stopped talking about architectural genius stuff. "Let's go," he said, sounding sort of relieved. Annabeth and I got into the elevator, and the tenseness inside of me exploded. It was full. There was no room for Percy.

"Next car, sir," said the park ranger.

I knew I should have stood up and told Annabeth we needed to wait with Percy. After all, he wasn't the only one on the line. The two weedy photographers were in the elevator with us, but there was a mother and child still on the observation deck. His father was there too, and the ranger would have to stay. If we left, it would be them, Percy, Echidna, and her freaking devil's spawn.

But I just twiddled my thumbs and kept seated.

"We'll get out," Annabeth said, as if she was sensing my unease and Percy's, however different they were. _No I won't._ "We'll wait with you."

Unfortunately or fortunately, Percy was too considerate for that. He shook his head and flashed us an uneasy grin. "Naw, it's okay. I'll see you guys at the bottom." _The bottom of the river._

The elevator doors slowly closed on us, and we began our descent. At first, it was quiet. I guess Annabeth didn't feel comfortable asking me about why I was so freaked out in front of two strangers. I didn't feel comfortable talking at all. I wanted to curl into a ball and cry. How could I know that something awful like that was going to happen and not stop it? How could I know that Percy's life was going to be put at risk like that and do _nothing?_

The Arch shook almost imperceptibly around us. Annabeth didn't notice it, but I had been waiting. "I'm glad we got to come here," she said finally, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," I said. "I just want to get my feet back on the ground."

Annabeth raised a perfect brown eyebrow, and then the Arch shook harder. One of the weedy guys swore.

Okay, so playing 'scared of heights' wasn't the most original. But being hit by the aftershocks, I'm sure I was pretty convincing.

The Arch jolted again and our elevator just kept going down. Annabeth was completely freaked out; her eyes were wide and the tips of her fingers grabbed her chin as she struggled to think. She was wearing mascara; I wondered when she'd put it on. "We should have stayed with Percy," she muttered, shaking her head. "This has gotta be him…"

I only nodded dully in agreement. Of course it was. After all, trouble basically went looking for Percy. He could barely take a step forward without taking a step back, Even without me, we should have known well enough to stay. The thought that everything would probably be okay should have never crossed anyone's mind. It wasn't going to be okay. Here, it never was. "How are we supposed to help him from down here?" I whisper-hissed. "Pray?" _Dear God, please save my pagan friend from imminent destruction. (: (: (:_

Annabeth pressed her lips together. Her eyes quickly shot to the ceiling and then back down at the floor. There was nothing we could do and that was it. Percy was on his own. I wondered what she was thinking. If Percy died, did we go on without him? Was she worried that her quest was at risk? Was she afraid of going back to camp a failure? Minus one? She probably cared about Percy at least a little, but Annabeth had probably known people besides Thalia who were now dead. And most of them would probably stay that way.

Maybe she was actually worried about the Arch itself. What if it collapsed on us?

I sent up a quick prayer to Poseidon. _When he falls, don't let him die. Please._

Left unsaid - or unthought - was that I could have stopped it all from happening in the first place.

Annabeth and I both felt pathetic (or at least she probably did). Our friend was in bad enough trouble to shake a National Monument at, and we were stuck inside this elevator. My gun or knife or Annabeth's dagger would do us no good where we were. We couldn't even come up with a a plan. Instead, we were stuck on this endless ride down, waiting to get off and see if Percy would be there after us.

I knew how it ended and I was anxious.

It looked like Annabeth had taken my witticism to heart and was praying. The two other tourists were freaking out, practically unnoticed. I figured it was safe to talk. My lungs rattled as I inhaled, like I'd been crying, but I grabbed Annabeth's shoulder with one hand and forced out a coherent word. "We're going to need to be ready to go. Whatever's happening, it's not good. We wait for Percy, and then we go."

The blonde peered up at me. Alarmingly, it looked like she'd been crying. A little bit of makeup had run down her cheeks. "This always happened," she muttered, and though I felt quite certain that she was hardly talking to me at all, I bit the inside of my cheek.

Another tremor. I fell down. "Does it," I muttered in equal quietness, my muscles clenching. I could feel my palms getting sweaty. The air around the was cold.

And then, mercifully, the doors swung open, and Annabeth and I ran.

It was pretty crowded, but people dispersed quickly. I guess they were concerned about this being a terrorist attack or something and were evacuating. It was a pretty good thing, actually. The Arch didn't fall, or at least wasn't supposed to, but I was sure there'd be debris, at least.

Already, there were reporters. Annabeth and I ducked out until we were hopefully out of sight. The other girl looked frantically around, like Percy might appear out of nowhere, but he was presumably still in the Arch.

"What happened?" Annabeth asked desperately, watching smoke come off the Arch. I wished I could tell the truth, but I only shrugged. "What could have attacked him? Everything seemed fine…"

"There was a mom and her kid up there," I blurted, thinking of Echidna and her 'dog'. It was sort of unwarranted, and I sent up another prayer - this time to the Fates - that Annabeth wouldn't put the pieces together later.

For now, though, she completely misinterpreted what I'd said. "I'm sure they'll be fine," she told me. "Most monsters don't pay any attention to mortals, and if it did, I'm sure that stupid Seaweed Brain did everything in his power to protect them."

"He'll be back any minute now," I said softly.

Annabeth glanced over at the reporters. "I'm going to go see if I can get some details. Stay here." With that, she rushed off in their direction, and I was left alone, staring at the riverbed as sirens started up behind me. I glanced back at an ambulance. No one there yet, but I was pretty sure this meant Percy was supposed to be here soon. I remembered that he could see the Arch when he first got out of the river, and was within walking distance. In fact, he'd been fairly quick to get there in the books. How far could it be? A block or two? I allowed my pupils to flit anxiously back and forth along the surface of the river, but all I could see was floating garbage. I wondered if I'd finally see his head sticking out of the water or something. A chill went up my spine. What if he was just a body at the bottom of the river now?

I couldn't see him _anywhere._

Truth be told, I couldn't see much of anything. I almost went into cardiac arrest, thinking I must have lost my glasses in the tram, but when I reached up and touched my face, they were there, and my cheeks were wet. I was _crying._ How embarrassing. Had I been crying when Annabeth was here? Had I been crying ever since I realized what a terrible person I was? _Tell me nobody's seen me like this. How awful._

My fists rubbed almost involuntarily into my eyes for a few long seconds, and then my glasses fell back onto the bridge of my nose. I looked around a little longer. _Is he coming from the other direction?_

I took a few steps towards the river, my heart rate shooting up a million times over. I swallowed something that burned my throat and licked my lips. They were dry, and a piece of skin came off onto my tongue. I spit it out - _disgusting_ \- and kept walking. Nothing. Nobody. I started walking the other direction. He had to be here somewhere.

"Mama!" cried the voice of a little girl, so high pitched that it alarmed me. I turned in her direction - around a quarter of a football field away. That boy walked out of the water!"

My heart sped up again, and I hurriedly walked towards her and her mother, who replied quietly. Sure enough, I could see the notably dry form of Percy Jackson walking toward me. I felt relieved. Relieved and guilty. "Jackson," I muttered, sounding a little angry as I dashed towards him. I felt stupid for worrying, but I also still felt like a piece-of-shit… questing assistant. I'd abandoned him, but at least he was alive. Making excuses: that's always a good sign in any relationship, right?

Percy met me halfway, and when I saw him, he looked practically robust, not pale and wan like I would have expected. A facade of determination and strength overlaid the relief in his eyes. He was probably happy about a lot more than the hint the naiad had given him. Percy was probably just happy to be _alive._ "Percy," I said, and then stopped because I wasn't quite sure what to say. "You - what happened?"

"I - um - I fell."

I sighed and rubbed my face some more. "But _how_? Unless you just decided it'd be fun to dive from a national monument." It was insensitive of me, I _know_. But Percy wasn't the only one under stress, and I was selfish. Besides, I had suddenly begun to wonder if I would have been mentioned somehow. I wasn't super powerful that I knew of, but someone had probably noticed me. Maybe they'd made an Alice in Wonderland reference.

"When you guys went onto the tram, that old lady with the chihuahua started acting… weird," Percy answered hesitantly. He glanced behind me, in the direction of the crowd, and I began to walk with him there. Hopefully Annabeth hadn't been freaking out. Or maybe she hadn't even left the area with the reporters yet. "I noticed she had a forked tongue."

"Did you try going down the other tram?" I asked, unsure if that was even possible. Even if it was, far be it from Percy Jackson to run from a fight.

"Didn't have a chance," he said, carefully observing the chaos around us as we hurried to the crowd. "She said she was Echidna, and her dog was her son -"

"Chimera," I muttered, biting my lip. "Percy, how did you get out of there alive?" I hoped I seemed genuine. After all, I knew that he got bitten and jumped out of the building, so it was hard for me to inject some fear and curiosity into my tone. After all, my scary event of the day was that I'd been in the Arch while it shook in place. I remembered reading that the Arch could sway eighteen inches on either side and be totally fine. What I been through hadn't even been dangerous. "If the legends are reliable by any means -"

"I should be dead," he agreed, biting his lip. "It had this snaketail and it - it bit me. And when the Chimera blew a hole in the side of the Arch -"

"You jumped out," I breathed, knowing instantly that there was something I couldn't remember. Something he wasn't telling me. "And into the water." What was it? I knew all about the conversation with the woman in the river, but there was something before then that I must have missed. He looked so downcast - something was wrong. "Did she say something to you?" I pushed. "Echidna, I mean."

What if I had been mentioned? What if someone figured out that I knew everything that would happen over the next few years, and that made me a threat? What if Zeus thought I might defect, or Kronos thought me too useful to the gods? What if Percy knew now? What if he distrusted me because he realized that I'd known everything about Mrs. Dodds and him and his mom and the future and wouldn't trust me? What if he told Annabeth and she killed me in my sleep or something?

"She just goaded me," he said, scratching his head. "'The gods are using you, give up' - that stuff. Like with Medusa. But when I fell into the water, there was this woman."

"Like a water spirit or something?" I said, trying to sound skeptical.

"What else? A body?" he joked weakly, but neither of us laughed, because I was uneasy and Percy probably knew _he_ should have been a body. "She had a message from my dad. She said we had to go to Santa Monica and -"

"Crap," I said aloud.

"Huh?" Percy asked, confused.

In just under a second, Annabeth had completely tackled him. He kind of flew a few feet to my left in a blur of color, then landed with an audible thump. I thought of the Heroes of Olympus series when he'd gone missing and the first thing Annabeth did when she finally found him was judo flip him to the ground in front of God and everyone else. It was kind of an illusion to the events of The Lightning Thief, wasn't it? Still, I was kind of worried that she'd be mad, and not just at Percy. I distinctly remembered her telling me to stay put, and even though I was by no means inclined to follow the instructions of someone younger than me or anyone at all, Annabeth was pretty scary. When I sized her up, there was pretty much no ambiguousness in terms of possession of superior body and/or wit. She'd probably beat the crap out of me before I could even blink.

"Percy!" I heard her gasp, though she seemed to have had the breath knocked out of her by her own actions. "What happened?" She slowly stood so that she loomed over his body. Percy looked unsettled, so I imagined that Annabeth was visibly angry.

"Annabeth," he greeted, scooting back enough to stand up without bumping her. He rubbed the back of his head. I wondered if Percy might have a concussion or something. _Certainly the water would have taken care of that for him? It did the venom, after all._

"What did you do?" she cried, glancing at the Arch and back. I stared at the crowd; another van had arrived. It had the Fox News logo on the side.

"We should go," I suggested.

"Not right now, Amara," Annabeth ordered. My lips turned down in what was undeniably a sneer. If this kept on, poor Percy would have to play peacekeeper in what would, for me, be a losing battle. "What happened? Percy, we can hardly leave you behind for a few minutes bef -"

"Annabeth," I snapped, " _we have to go!_ I know you've so far failed to notice, but our photographs have already been on the news, and now the mortals probably have footage of Percy destroying a national monument. Let us recall the incident at the bus, where I specifically was referred to as a terrorist. It won't take them long to put the pieces together, and I don't want to be here when they do. You're a criminal accomplice now, Annabeth. Congratulations."

I was admittedly a little harsh, but I apparently got my point across, because she started dragging us all back to the Amtrak station in stormy silence. Like it was her idea or something. Percy tried to break the ice a few times, but it ended in epic failure. Time flew.

And soon enough, by some miracle, we actually made the train on time.

* * *

 _I hope you guys enjoyed chapter fifteen! Thanks for all the reviews. I never really saw this story being so successful, to be honest, so thank you guys for getting us here._

 _Guest: (because you reviewed two different chapters, I'm guessing you're the same person. Sorry if I'm wrong!) She kind of is, isn't she? Amara definitely isn't all bravado, and there's undoubtedly room for character development. And as much as I love Annabeth, I really can't see Amara liking her, which is why she may be portrayed in a negative light in this story._

 _I almost forgot to date the next chapter! I'm not fond of it, really, so I don't want to keep you guys in suspense for a long time only to disappoint you. What do you say to an update two weeks from now? I'll update a day early for every three reviews. See ya then!_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

I wish I could say I did something productive while I was crammed into a seat on Annabeth's left, squished against the wall, but the truth is that, for once, in spite of the time, I slept. Sure, there were people talking on the train, but the quest was tiring. Keeping everything secret was weighing down on me. And missing home, fearing for my life, worrying about losing the one advantage I had over everyone else by screwing things up - that was _exhausting._ So when I sat down, and realized that the train didn't smell too awful - it was sort of like fresh carpet - and the air cool, and the lights a bit dim, I leaned my head to the side, and everything slowly faded away.

I was kind of in and out at first. I'd fall asleep a few minutes, wake up kind of startled, since it felt like a lot of time had passed while I was blinking, or some otherwise impossible phenomenon, but eventually, I went out and stayed out, somehow managing to actually sleep in spite of everything worrying me.

* * *

This time, my dream wasn't dark.

I knew it was a dream right off the bat, which was kind of unsettling. Usually I had to do a check if I even realized I was dreaming at all, and I rarely did. Maybe that was the thing about demigod dreams. Maybe they'd always feel kind of surreal, and I would always be aware the whole time, and remember them in the morning.

I sneezed. Had I ever sneezed in a dream? As real as dreams seemed, it was almost like no one ever really sneezed or coughed or burped or whatever in them. It was kind of interesting, actually. The brain didn't fully, correctly form things like hands and voices in dreams, so it made sense that such banal functions as sneezing would be too busy for the resting mind to detail. So why were demigod dreams different? Maybe it was because the brain wasn't actually asleep. Maybe it was more like a kind of trance state. Maybe the god Hypnos or Morpheus or whoever was in charge of dreams had something more to do with demigod dreams than normal ones, and that was the difference. Maybe someone at camp would know.

Luckily, the sound didn't seem to attract anything. I'd worried that something might note the disturbance and attack me, like that Kelly character had in the fifth book, but nothing happened. No one was in sight. All around me was just rock. Far ahead of me there was a curve that prevented me from seeing too far ahead, and behind me, I noticed when I turned, was just... more rock. I was in some kind of cave or tunnel. It was wide and vast, the slightest sound echoing from its walls. The negative space formed a ragged, hollow lowercase 'n', as if it had been purposely, sloppily sculpted. I felt that I was about to walk into the great, cavernous maw of a monster. A angry mouth. A very childish part of me wondered if it would close on me. If the cave would collapse.

 _It's only a dream anyways,_ I told myself.

I proceeded to wonder if I would be crushed if such a thing were to happen in a demigod dream. Did anything like that happen in the books? When I'd woken up from my dream earlier, I hadn't been really injured from being slapped around. Or had I? _That wasn't exactly my main focus at the time._

Swallowing, I hurried forward. For a cave, there was a surprising amount of darkness. For those of you who don't know, one of the only ways to achieve true blackness besides stabbing out your eyes is to go into a cave. Crawl back into one, as far as you can, and as far away from any entrance. You'll have a flashlight, of course - turn it off. It will be the blackest black you've ever seen. Or, more correctly, _not_ seen. But even though I had no light with me, the tunnel seemed lit all on its own. There were no visible torches, and it was dim, but it wasn't _black._ That alone was kind of bizarre. As I'd noted earlier - surreal. But what's one to expect from a dream?

 _Am I supposed to be going somewhere?_ The path went on beyond the turn, but I still couldn't see an end in sight. I decided to stop again and look around.

The ragged shape of the cave reminded me even more of a great frown the more I looked at it. Threads of water fell like saliva from pointed stalactites on the ceiling, which on their own were like teeth. I feared for an instant that I might be in Tartarus, but that was stupid. The aura wasn't horrible and oppressive, just… erie. Besides, if this was the mouth of Tartarus, Tartarus had a very long and distorted mouth. Like some kind of deformed crocodile, or Manny from Diary of a Wimpy Kid.

Besides that, though, the rocks sparkled with gems. I'd gone through all sorts of phases as a kid: the Dora kick, the snake kick, the shark kick, the pirate kick, the Harry Potter kick, the Greek mythology kick (lucky me), the trivia kick, the cowgirl kick, the Houdini kick… you get it. Actually, I was still into some of those things. But the point is that one of those phases was a geology phase, where I found particular interest in rocks and minerals. I'd started a collection featuring many a geode and a piece of _genuine_ pyrite, among other things. I even had an emerald. But for a long time, I'd been very good at identifying different rocks and minerals. Some of that knowledge must have stuck with me, because as I crept up to the walls of the cave, I was able to identify that all or at least most of the crystals were much the same.

 _What's the formula? Silicon dioxide. S-I-oh-two. Good. Quartz._ I ran my fingers down the side of the crystal within my reach. It was smooth, and quite cool, as was the cave itself, once I was paying attention. _Because all caves are roughly fifty degrees._ It was purple, much like the others. What was purple quartz called again? I had a sample of rose quartz, and I was sure I knew the name of this stuff. People used it in jewelry. And wasn't it one of those birth month gems? _Amethyst! That's it. But why am I in a cave full of amethyst?_ More specifically, the amethyst was deep Russian - rich and bold in its color, and higher in value than most amethyst, although amethyst didn't have a high value that I recalled anyways.

It was horribly pretty, though.

I turned away from the gem, but there was nothing much else to see. Just a bunch of stalactites and a lot of amethyst. What was even the point of this dream?

That's when I felt a slight tremor of the earth beneath my feet. It wasn't enough to knock me down or anything; it was more like the earth was humming. It shook me a little, and not physically. I wondered if I was missing something. If whatever was causing the tremor was something I was meant to see but hadn't, because I got too caught up in some stupid gems.

I also wasn't quite sure why my demigod dreams had been so different than Percy's. In the books, Percy usually just eavesdropped of conversations. He'd be stuck in one spot, unmoving, and stay there as long as he was still dreaming. I decided that all demigod dreams were probably different, based solely on a person's individual traits. Or perhaps it had more to do with our godly parents, or the gods that were interested in us? After all, Kronos, to some extent, had been known to invade the dreams of demigods and even the mind of Ares.

The further I walked down the tunnel, the more notable the vibrating seemed to get. I now recognized it as the same power that had presented itself when I met my mother, but stronger, and more invasive. My mother's power wasn't friendly, but this was worse. It was almost hostile, pulsing in the air and making my legs numb as it became stronger.

It suddenly became quite clear to me that I was coming upon someone of incredible power. And whoever they were, it was an enemy. I wondered if it was Kronos or Ares, but this didn't seem to match their styles. The suspense, the dramatic grandiose, the crystals and the weird, creepy cave? No. The show of power went with either of them, But they were the type of people - or gods, or Titans, that wanted to inspire fear. Not awe, even though it's intimidating in its own right.

No, I had a bad feeling that this was the very same guy we were hunting down right now. It fit him, right down to the over dramatic long-walk-down-an-empty-hallway bullshit. He aimed to impress - impress his power, that is. And, for some reason, I was on the receiving end.

I swallowed, uncertain. My throat was dry. Why did I have to have so many dreams about meeting gods? Why couldn't I just conveniently eavesdrop and get dream paralysis like Percy? I touched my fingers to my lips in thought; my back straightened. "Hades," I called aloud, my voice a little shaky.

Power still seemed to fill the air. I wondered why Percy had never mentioned this feeling in the books. Because it was downright distracting to me. Like a bunch of gnats crawling all over my skin.

I turned around. Behind me, empty tunnel. Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe no one was here.

And then, when I looked back in front of me, things had changed. I turned back around. Still the tunnel. But in front of me. the tunnel had changed into a great, vast, hollow, with beautiful gems - not just amethyst - protruding from the wall. Seams of gold ran up and across the stone, glinting in the light of beautiful arrangements of oil lamps and old, yellowing candles on the walls. The stone floor in front of me had intricate designs carved into it. I looked closely at them, the artist within me amazed at the work, but a quiet, calm voice managed to recapture my intention. "Amara Easterling. For all that I've been hearing, I expected you to call far sooner. After all, you aren't as unaware as your friend Annabeth and the lightning thief Jackson, are you?"

Far ahead of me was a table. Not the throne I'd expected, but a table. It was long and mahogany, bare of food, bare of _anything,_ In stark contrast to the room around me, it seemed dull and plain. But my eyes fixed at the man sitting at the head of the table, and my stomach dropped to my feet as he spoke a second time. "Sit down."

This guy was white. Really white. Like, on a scale of one to ten, one being albino, he was about a negative six. At a distance, I could see the green of blood veins in his temples. He glowed in the candlelight, his skin boldly sallow against the pulsating darkness around him. His hair, in contrast, was inky black to the point that it was almost blue. It reached his shoulders and had a slight wave to it. I could sense his strength even though he wasn't bulky or visibly muscled underneath the black, silken robes he wore, and he was obviously tall and seemed very dignified. I imagined that he would move with incredible grace and poise, but at that moment, I hoped he would remain seated.

Without hesitating, my body succumbed to his authority, skittering like a frightened mouse to the seat opposite him on the long table and staring meekly down at my hands, folded on the polished wood. I feared looking into his eyes. _God only knows what he'll see._

This was Hades. He could probably incinerate me at any time. And for some reason, he'd _heard_ of me. Who'd told? Dodds - Alecto? Some other spy? A spirit? Who would have seen me as being worthy of mention? And why? What had I done besides screw up?

Of course, it was more likely that he'd just been watching from a distance, and that he had some level of awareness as to how our little group was possessing at all times. Not that the spy theory was total garbage.

"Lord Hades," I said finally, feeling that the room was growing smaller around me. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Some slight sarcasm slipped into my tone; apparently I didn't feel like being a total sycophant today.

 _Don't be a brat. He's better than you and a dozen times more powerful. He'll squish you. He's the lord of the dead. Shouldn't he be your lord?_

I kind of felt like I'd been hit by the Imperius curse. Time to resist.

"It has been some time since your mother produced a child. Or, in fact, a child so powerful," he mused. His voice was slippery and slimy and I knew if I wasn't careful, he'd have me dancing into the palms of his hands. Still, there was something about what he was saying that pleased me. I was having my ego stroked... by a god. I looked up, into his eyes. They were, for lack of a better word, frightening. His pupils were slightly blown, and his irises so dark that they almost blended in. They were black as flint, hard as stone, and swirling with intensity. He sent shivers down my spine.

This was exactly how I'd imagined Snape would look before I saw Alan Rickman in the movies.

The question of the moment was whether I should ask about my mother. It probably wouldn't hurt, but I didn't want to seem needy for information. I gulped; his stare was sending me into tremors of the notably unpleasant kind.

"Is that so?" I asked instead of opting to put my curiosity on display.

A grin spread across his pale lips. Really, it was more like a smirk, cold and cruel, a little twisted at one corner of his mouth. It really was downright disconcerting. "It is indeed. Are you really surprised? The truth is that some gods have far fewer children than you might imagine, while others are considerably less considerate. I imagine my nephew Apollo might refer to your mother as a… prude."

"I suppose in the case of demigods, that's not necessarily a bad thing," I reasoned, raising my eyebrows, heart racing. A prude. What was that supposed to mean? Athena? Or did he just mean someone who didn't get out as _much_? That would rule out Demeter, based on my experiences at camp, and Aphrodite. But who else was there? Pretty much Athena. Unless the world had gotten even more upside down and it was Hera or Artemis.

But with them... _wouldn't their children be powerful_ all _the time? And wouldn't Zeus have turned me into demigod molecule dust by now?_ Maybe it wasn't one of the twelve members of the Council. Hestia? Again, probably not. Persephone? _Then Hades would be blasting me right now. And what have my powers had to do with flowers or whatever she has rule over so far?_ Or maybe he _wouldn't_ be blasting me. I frowned.

What was his daughter's name? Melinae or something? Goddess of ghosts? I had noticed I was stronger and more energized at night. _Wouldn't she be associated with that kind of night owl thing?_ And I hadn't seen any of her kids at camp.

Of course, I didn't have time to think. Not then. Already, he was talking. "You're quite right," he said, sipping from a tall glass of deep red-purple wine that had appeared on the table in front of him, probably while I'd been zoned out. Meanwhile, I had a bug juice. _How thoughtful of him._ It would be impossible to get anyone seriously if I was guzzling bug juice. Not to mention the bug juice is gross. But I twisted the top and pulled until the top popped off and took a swig of some disgustingly sweet-not-sweet artificially flavored and colored bug juice, and then licked my lips, hoping it wouldn't stain.

 _This is a dream, you moron,_ I reminded myself and stopped.

"More demigods means more monster attacks, and more monster attacks mean more death," he continued. "I suppose you think I believe this to be a good thing. That's why you and your little friends have decided to use me as a scapegoat. I'm sure my brother provided considerable inspiration on that front."

I said nothing, but took another sip of the disgusting bug juice.

He continued, "The truth is that I'm having a hard enough time handling death as it is." Hades gave me a hard glare. I imagined the corners of his mouth turning dramatically down and his face wrinkling. If I hadn't been too busy pretending not to be terrified, I might have laughed. But I was, so I didn't. I'd always been simultaneously charmed and annoyed by the childish side of the gods in Rick's portrayal of them, and had always imagined that they'd actually be different. And they were more terrifying in person, but the childishness apparently wasn't embellishment. I guess that millennia of being powerful and getting your way would do that to anyone.

"For a long time, everything was amazing. My brothers took all the bigger realms, thinking it would give them power, but I was the one who truly came out of our little… gamble victorious." For a moment, I was confused, but then I remembered that after they won the first Titan war, they'd thrown lots over who got to pick realms first. Hades lost. In theory. "The Underworld, Easterling, is not as vast as the sea or the sky, but I now had an army on my hands. I had the best access to Tartarus. _I_ had the most infamous of monsters working for me. And to this day, I still do."

He looked so smug. But he wanted me to say something. I knew the answer to my question, but what else was there to say? "If you have all of this power, why wouldn't you want to add more souls to the Underworld? Couldn't you make your realm greater than the sky or the sea? Couldn't you add more souls to your army? Power and safety in numbers, and all."

"The words of one young and naive," Hades said wisely, and I imagined that, if I was someone he hated slightly more, like Percy, he would have slammed his fist against the table. "You must understand that, as I said, the Underworld was undoubtedly the best setup I could have gotten. But then there was the Industrial Revolution. And worse -" He ran a hand down his face, sighing. "The baby boomers."

I was seriously tempted to laugh now.

"A billion at first. Things were busy, but it was fine. Then, a few decades later, it's two billion! It was massive expansion. Highly stressful. But human population kept increasing exponentially. I tried to convince Thanatos to give you people longer lifespans so I'd have more time to plan expansions, but he refused. Now, in a century, it's gone up to seven billion! The Underworld is a mess! Even now, there's construction. So, tell me, do I really need a war on my hands?"

"No," I answered, like a good little girl. "I guess not."

"Exactly, demigod," he barked, the black of his eyes reflecting candlelight and glowing like coals in a dying fire. "I have no reason to steal the bolt. In fact, I have reasons _not_ to do so."

"Why tell me this? Why not Percy?" I asked, my voice sounding very dull and flat even to my own ears.

Hades looked satisfied, as if this was the question he'd been waiting for. "Your friend Mr. Jackson allows his heart to rule his head. He acts based completely on his emotions." He was wrong. Percy would prove him wrong later, by leaving his mother in the Underworld. I did not say so. "It's very likely that he always will. Reasoning with him while I have his mother would be impossible. You're different."

"If you're looking for someone who thinks logically, why not Annabeth?"

"Miss Chase's fatal flaw is a common one among heroes," Hades informed me.

"Hubris," I replied.

"Indeed. She believes that I have the bolt. I could certainly introduce doubt, but do you truly believe that she would so easily admit that her current belief is wrong?" he asked, raising thin, black eyebrows. "I would have to offer Chase absolute proof that I haven't stolen the bolt."

"And you can't do that," I realized. "You can't prove that you don't have the bolt because it would be impossible for her to search your realm for it. You would have to prove that someone else has the bolt. But you can do that, either, because then you would have to bring the real thief to meet Annabeth with you and show that they had the bolt. In that case, she would believe it was staged. After all, you're immensely powerful, and I imagine it wouldn't be difficult for you to coerce someone into acting for you. The only other way would be to prove that one of us has it." My face went hard. "And we don't. Percy doesn't have it. None of us do." _Or your death helmet, pal._

I wished I could say what I knew, and exactly everything I knew, without consequence, but that wasn't going to work. It would be too easy. Besides, I had a feeling that if I was too clever, someone would see fit to destroy me, body, soul, and all, so I couldn't tip the scales too much. Or else I'd be kidnapped, used for information, and then disposed of later. I had a feeling that Hades would be one of the kidnappers.

"That brings us to the same problem," Hades informed me, his voice cold and professional now. I was stricken with the impression that I was about to make a deal with the devil, so to speak. My throat felt dry. "You can hardly prove that, Amara Easterling. If the bolt isn't found, there will be war."

He still hadn't mentioned his helm. Obviously he didn't want anyone knowing that his symbol of power was missing. It made sense. After all, regardless of Hades's actual raw power, he did have the smallest realm and the least authority of any of the Big Three. If the other gods managed to find out from one of us that he was missing his symbol of power, they would take advantage of it. Still, it annoyed me. He was obviously about to politely suggest that I bring the bolt to him, so that he could also receive his helm, which was undoubtedly with it, but he was leaving me lacking information that could help me out. Especially since I couldn't remember exactly where the helm had been in the books. Hadn't it been Ares's acting motorcycle helmet or something? "Yes," I said, well aware that I sounded impatient, and well aware that this had been the cause of my… guardian's anger in my dream before. Evidently I'd failed to learn my lesson. "We're looking for it now. That's why we're on a quest."

Rather than seeming angry, Hades looked amused, as if the annoyance of a meek little bug like myself was almost below his radar, but just notable enough that it was cute. Like an angry kitten. After all, he had no reason to hate my mother as far as I knew, and definitely not with the intensity that he hated Poseidon. Obviously he would hold far stronger feelings toward Percy, who probably would have been at least threatened by now. I was lucky in that respect. "Indeed you are. However, as you seem to know, I believe that Percy Jackson is the lightning thief." He sounded bitter. "If this is true, he _will_ fail and war will begin on the solstice. As long as there is any doubt as to his loyalty to all the gods and not only his father, I will not stand by and rely on him to restore order."

"Percy's _not_ the lightning thief," I repeated.

"Perhaps not. Either way, I don't trust him or his father. So consider this further encouragement." Hades grinned unpleasantly. His teeth were greyish compared to his skin, and I could see enough of them that he seemed to be baring his teeth rather than smiling. I felt distinctly uncomfortable. "You are no longer only a follower. This quest is now your own. Mr. Jackson will not be the only one facing a god's wrath if the bolt is not found before the solstice as my brother commanded."

I swallowed. There was that threat I'd been waiting for. He'd just made me personally responsible for finding the bolt. We couldn't afford to waste time anyways. Now, it was all the more personal. Where I had been inclined to go with the books beforehand… well, no longer. "I understand that you don't want war, but why are you so personally invested in the bolt's return? It makes sense that you wouldn't want to prevent someone from finding the bolt and restoring whatever peace there is between you and your brothers, because it's beneficial to you if there is no war. On the other hand, pushing for Zeus to get his bolt back doesn't help you. Chances are your help won't even be acknowledged. What do you have to gain from this?"

 _Tell me. Just tell me. So it doesn't look weird when I know I have to search for your stupid helm._

Hades's eyes glinted. "There is much more at stake than the master bolt. Make it a priority to see to those things as well, Easterling."

 _Things? Plural? As in, not just the helm?_ I wanted to protest: _I don't know what those_ things _are!_ Instead, though, I pursed my lips and worried them between my teeth. "Of… of course," I said instead, unsettled by the discovery the my voice seemed to be floating outside of my body, separate from myself.

"A parting gift before you leave, Amara Easterling," he said, smiling slyly again. My heart raced, and images around me seemed to blur. A small box was in front of me, having seemingly materialized; doubtless because I was beginning to wake up, and fall out of the dream world. I could no longer speak; my voice seemed caught in my throat. Still, I reached clumsily forward and grabbed the box, which was roughly the size of my fist, and pried of the top. Inside, I could see something glassy and reflecting candlelight. I plucked it out with my fingers, holding it up to the light.

An amethyst, deep Russian, about two inches long and in unpolished, crystalline form. There was a hole punched through the top, where it was attached to a leather string by a kind of slipknot.

 _Amethyst? Why?_ I thought, but I could not ask, and instead clenched it in my fist like a lifeline. I had more questions. And I was scared of the price. _No such thing as free lunch._

Unfortunately, before I had much chance to ponder my new tasks, or to worry about the amulet, I felt myself being pulled from the dream entirely, and the cavern faded to nothingness around me.

* * *

 _Aaand our new chapter's up! I hope you guys don't think it's as pukey as I do, but ugh. At least it's over :(_

 _Anywho, I failed to post this two days early due to studying for finals. I'm very sorry! That wasn't my intention but I'm just super overwhelmed right now._

 _On another note, I'll be replying to reviews over PM as soon as I can. For now, guest reviews!  
Guest 1: You make good points. Amara is very harsh in her judgement, probably due to the fact that she sees things in total black and white. With that said, I am going to point out that in spite of the very valid issues you've noted, Luke didn't try to solve those problems. Instead, he and every single demigod who teamed up with him got so butthurt that they threw all of humanity - all of the WORLD - under the bus. I think it's pretty clear that they're in the wrong, even if there were reasons, inadequate though they may be, behind their actions.  
Sami: I think Annabeth's 'wisdom' and hubris runs away from her sometimes, even at the tender young age of twelve. That's why she's so irritating in the first book. And as much as I love Annabeth - I really do - I can't see most people, myself included, getting along with her at first. I applied this principle to Amara in extension. Anyways, I'm glad I'm not the only one who sees that Annabeth is no more a perfect character than anyone else in the series.  
Hockeylover: You're absolutely right. In fact, when you said, "_It's like she can't make up her mind on whether to be involved or not," _you hit the nail right on the head. Amara's a bit of a coward, and even though she wants to interfere, it's a terrifying prospect. She wants to defy the 'mother' that brought her here, so she says she's going to change things... but she's too scared. Suddenly she's more submissive to the Fates. Stuff like that. *shakes head* Guess she just needs a gentle nudge in the right direction.  
Guest 2: Thanks ;o;_

 _Oh! And finally, I have to announce that the story's hit 100 reviews and your wish is my command. Once it's time to move on to book two, we'll be introducing new POVs. So tell me... who do you want to hear from?_

 ** _Next Update isn't until January 7th due to finals and vacation, but once again I'll update a day early per three reviews. (I've already accounted for the two days I owe you guys.)_**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

I had a mission now, much more so than before.

Part of it was because I was scared. The fear was overwhelming. Having someone tell you outright that they'll kill you if you don't do some thing or another is a lot more frightening than you'd imagine from reading about it or seeing it in a movie. It was an instant, permanent reminder of my mortality, and how insignificant I was, even though I'd undergone a hop, skip, and a jump from one universe to the other. It was further evidence of my fate in this world: a slave to the gods and a slave to the Fates. It had me glancing over my shoulder every few minutes; my nerves were frazzled, and I was sure that if Hades somehow managed to spy on me, and saw that I was not making adequate progress, I'd be dead for sure.

On top of that, I quickly began to draw the conclusion that I could only trust myself. Percy was certainly loyal, and I didn't doubt that he would help me if I needed it, but he was almost _too_ good, too nosy, and too observant. He'd noticed almost right away that I'd been behaving differently after we got off the train, and had been watching me since then. He hadn't, however, asked about it. He was just concerned. And if I did something off, I was sure he'd noticed that too.

Maybe he didn't ask because he'd realized how personal I was, and that he wouldn't hear a word from me unless I wanted him to. Asking was useless. It was alarming to me, though, that I'd been standoffish enough to impress that upon someone like Percy, who was so incredibly kind and friendly that he was usually the sort of person who would press for information anyways. It meant that he really was more observant than he was portrayed as being in the books - more than I'd wagered.

Now, his powers of observation weren't necessarily the problem. The problem was that he might mention it to Annabeth, and then it would really all be over. Annabeth might not figure out exactly what was going on, but she might get it into her head that I wasn't exactly with them, or even that I was in cohorts with the thief.

Annabeth… she and I didn't get along well. I didn't exactly have the same trust in her as I did in Percy.

She'd always been one of my favorite characters in the books, but reading about her and hanging out with her were completely different things. Annabeth was so bossy. I'd always been something of an insurgent, and even if I was respectful to the fair authority, I hated people who took charge when they had little right to. And, in Annabeth's case, she was younger that I was and had exactly as much experience with quests as I did, so I hated that she saw fit to instruct me all the time, like I was a little baby who needed her guidance at every turn. I wasn't stupid; I knew what I was doing.

I kind of felt bad for disliking her so badly, but then she'd open her mouth and I would end up being a lot less sorry.

Like right now, for instance. "We have plenty of money left. We could catch a taxi and get a little further, and then find another way on," Percy was suggesting. It seemed like a fine idea to me. Of course, I knew how things were going to go once we hit a certain area, if we still did that, but Annabeth didn't, and immediately began to worry about money being a problem.

It wasn't really a bad thing. Actually, it was good that one of us was watching our pockets. But the way she went about it - I just wanted to slam my head into a brick wall. Or hers.

She rolled her eyes, placed her hands on her nonexistent twelve-year-old hips, and sighed, shaking her head. "Percy, we need money for food! Not to mention any emergencies." _Yeah, like if we see another national monument to ruin._ "We can't spend all of our money on transportation."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" I asked. "Hop a train?"

I was being sarcastic, and Annabeth knew that, but she looked at me like I was an idiot anyways. " _No!_ " She seemed so exasperated I almost felt bad for her. "There should be a good place to eat here."

"Yeah, because it's _Denver,_ " I replied, feeling on edge. I knew that after Percy and the gang ditched the train, they eventually wound up eating burgers with a god, but I couldn't remember exactly when or where. I remembered the conversation inside the diner, and everything. All the important stuff. Just not the timing. And, in the little notebook I had, it had been mashed up in a series or chronologically confused events: the Casino, Ares, something to do with a carwash, and the waterpark. Since we weren't at the casino and it was supposed to be in the wilderness somewhere, I figured it wasn't happening soon. The waterpark happened after Ares, and since we were due for some action, one of the remaining two scenes, or both, were bound to happen at any minute. The last thing I wanted was to talk to Ares, so I didn't like not knowing what was going on. As far as I was concerned, we wouldn't be eating anywhere in Denver. Especially anywhere near a car wash and/or serving burgers.

"There better be somewhere to eat," I continued. "But isn't transportation kind of a bigger deal right now? We're still a lightyear away from LA and even if it seems like we've got all the time in the world, you said it. 'Emergencies' could happen at any time. Not to mention that the cops are after us."

"As I was saying," Annabeth went on, annoyed, "we sit down, we eat, and we talk about getting the rest of the way to LA. We might not have time to waste, but it's also not going to kill us to stop and eat."

"Maybe you're both right," Percy said, playing the mediator. "We walk to McDonald's, make a decision on the way there. Barely any time wasted, and we get to eat."

"Not McDonald's," I said automatically, half because of burgers and the other half because of McDonald's burgers.

The blonde glared at me. "Now you're going to be picky? I thought you wanted to get out of here fast!"

Since I couldn't exactly state my other reason for protesting, I kept my mouth shut. Besides, she wasn't wrong. Not entirely.

"We'll go somewhere else instead," Percy said, clearly wishing to evade an argument, which would probably prove to be nothing more than a pain in the ass. After all, if the two of us did get in a spat, it would probably end in violence, not a heart-to-heart that would help us understand each other on a deeper level or something. Y'know, a chick flick moment. "We can have a long, expensive victory dinner after we get the bolt." _And your mom._

I let out a cheerful noise of support, having been distracted from Annabeth. I knew she wasn't entirely in the wrong. After all, I'd been pretty snippy with her. If I stayed involved in the conversation too long, I might have to apologize.

Of course, while Percy gave me a surprised look at the unprecedented amount of enthusiasm I'd displayed moments before, Annabeth had to put herself back in the spotlight. "I can't believe I actually thought you two might be able to handle this. It's not a joke!"

I snapped almost immediately. "I'm pretty sure we know that. Keep in mind that Percy has more at stake here than you do."

Annabeth flinched, but quickly replied, "All of our lives are at stake, not just his." _That's not what I meant._

"Yeah, but if we for some reason don't make it to LA in time, Percy will _definitely_ die. You and I still have a chance," I answered coldly, dragging my feet. "Besides, remember that we don't have as much time as we think we do, since we apparently have to go out of our way to Santa Monica." When was that? After the casino? I'd have to check my notebook, since I'd not been thinking about it earlier. I was pretty sure that for Santa Monica, I'd drawn Santa in a bikini or eaten a rotting fish or something. (Don't ask. It was probably a bad day when I came up with that one.)

It was like a lightbulb went on over Percy's head. "We should figure out how to get there first."

Annabeth seemed more hesitant. "I don't know. We can't really trust the nymph just because she says she's from your father. And even in we can't ignore a direct summons like that, maybe we should think things through before we rush into it without a plan."

I remembered where this was going. So _now_ was the car wash thing. I nodded my assent, and Percy said, "Oh. You're probably right."

Annabeth nodded smugly. "Let's try to contact Chiron. I want to tell him about your talk with the water spirit."

* * *

"Let's not eat here," I suggested.

"It's not McDonald's," replied Annabeth.

"You had burgers at Aunty Em's," I pointed out.

"We had… _Mist-_ ery meat," Percy disagreed. Annabeth and I stared at him. "And so did you. Come on - they've got milkshakes. Real milkshakes,"

"I'm not two," I snapped. "You can't bribe me with ice cream. Also, you aren't funny."

Percy looked momentarily hurt, but I noticed that he also seemed pretty weary. I didn't blame him. It seemed like Annabeth and I fought like cats and dogs, over every little thing. _I_ was getting weary, and I was a member of the guilty party. "Come on. Just this once. We'll eat somewhere you want later. Please?"

"Fine. You guys go in. Give me a dollar and I'll walk to the nearest convenience store and get an apple, okay?" It kind of just spewed out of my mouth without my thinking about it. I didn't want us to meet with Ares and wind up with the bolt, but apparently I didn't want _me_ to meet up with him more.

Annabeth seemed to think this was a bad idea. "You're kind of new to the whole hero thing. If you get attacked -"

"- I have a shotgun with which to defend myself," I told her dryly, feeling another argument coming on. "Getting an apple will take five minutes. I'll be right back. Give me a dollar so I'm not reduced to stealing."

Percy sighed and quickly supplied me with a five dollar bill. _Why, thank you for your generosity._ "Be careful. We'll wait in one of the booths."

 _Yeah, I have no intention of showing._ "Expect me back in a few minutes." Without saying much else, I turned my back on them, nearly walking into a group of teenagers as I hurried down the street.

I decided that while I was gone, I'd change into the spare set of clothes I'd packed in my bag. I'd been wearing the same underwear for days now and it was getting old. I knew I'd be able to change in the casino, but I felt disgusting, and I didn't know exactly how long it would be until we got there. Besides that, I wasn't exactly looking forward to the casino. There was a big choice to make there. And the answers weren't as clear cut as I'd have thought.

My options were numerous, but the very first choice I had to make was whether or not I should even allow us to cross the threshold. If we never went into the casino, we could finish the quest early. Maybe then I'd have some extra time to do something about Luke. On the other hand, my screwup with Medusa was telling me to let this quest go exactly as it did in the books from here on out. After all, even if we did lose the five days, everything would still be fine. Besides, I had no clue what would happen if we regained the five days. Maybe it would be better. But maybe it would just present new obstacles. Worse obstacles.

Five days was a lot of time for bad things to happen.

Besides that, once we got into the casino - because, at that point, I really couldn't see myself stopping the casino from happening - there were plenty of other courses of action. I could just hang out there myself. After all, if I played a single game in there, I was inevitably going to be sucked into the vortex just like the others. But if I went in and didn't play a single game, I'd have all the time in the world - five days - in the safety of the casino. But how would I utilize that time? Planning?

I could figure out how to fix the whole "Smelly Gabe" situation.

I pushed the door of what appeared to be a small grocer open. It was freezing inside, as is custom of any store with refrigerated products, and there were only a few people meandering around the store with little baskets. The lady at checkout eyed me, and I darted towards the back of the store and into the women's bathroom, which had two stalls.

The door to the handicap stall didn't lock, but I took it anyways. If I was changing, I'd need elbow room, and the other stall was roughly the size of a postage stamp. I set my bag down, weapons on top, so that it kept the door from swinging inwards on its own and began to pull off my clothes, throwing them haphazardly on the floor and listening suspiciously for the sound of anyone coming in.I hurriedly unzipped my bookbag and pulled out my spares: beautifully clean underwear and bra, black track pants, a shirt with a cartoon Saint Bernard on the front, and a dark green hoodie. It was kind of a hideous combination, but at least they weren't covered in filth. I dressed quickly and zipped the hoodie to hide the shamefully childish t-shirt. For some reason I felt rushed, even though I didn't really want to be back at the diner in time to meet Ares.

My old clothes were so disgusting that the idea of putting them back in my bag didn't even cross my mind. After I finished tying my shoes again, I gathered them into a ball and chucked them in the general direction of the little trash can in the corner of the stall. I went to grab my bookbag - when I was distracted by a little sound, like someone had dropped a glass marble on the floor.

I spun around, glancing at the floor in the huge gap underneath the stall barriers for feet, but there was no one else in the bathroom. I wasn't too worried; honestly, my biggest concern had been that some idiot would come in and push the stall door open while I was changing. That said, even if someone just saw my clothes wadded up on the floor, or saw me coming out in different clothes than I'd been wearing when I came in, it could be bad. It would attract unnecessary attention. I'd look like a runaway - which, in a way, I sort of was.

Apparently, I'd gotten lucky. I stood back up, deciding that a button had hit the floor when my clothes had missed the trash can, and went to pick them up. I was kind of grossed out to be at eye level with the toilet, but as I kneel down and packed my clothes into the garbage, I found the true source of the sound: a chunk of amethyst strung up on a thin leather cord had fallen from my clothes and hit the porcelain base of the commode.

It was real.

I don't know why, because I knew that the dream had been real, but the necklace had seemed so insignificant to me that I hadn't even thought to check my pockets for it. In fact, I hadn't thought of it at all. It hadn't registered to me that it might be a real thing, and it might materialize outside of the dream and into real life. After all, Hades didn't seem like the kind of guy to give out stupid, useless trinkets, and as I turned the stone over in my hands, I knew it wasn't a Riptide - it wasn't going to turn into a weapon. It was just a chunk of stone. So what use could it be? And how would my having it help Hades?

The amethyst sparkled in the light. Confused but knowing it would be unwise to throw it away, I pulled it over my head and hid the stone under my shirt. The cord was naturally hidden by my hoodie.

I'd have to ask Annabeth about the significance of jewelry in mythology, because I didn't know anything about it. Apparently I wasn't enough of a nerd for this world after all.

* * *

When I got to the diner, they were _gone._ No buff guy Ares, no pathetic little kids. I got eyed by a nervous waitress, but they were gone.

I swore aloud. The nervous waitress looked at me again and I hurried out of the restaurant. Why would they leave for the waterpark without me? And how were they going to survive it? Hadn't Grover done something mildly important in the books? Would they really need that third person? Because I was honestly beginning to feel completely unnecessary. It was almost enough to make me interfere more.

I couldn't remember. "Crap, crap, crap," I muttered, standing on my own on the sidewalk, gripping the straps of my backpack like a lifeline. _Grover used his flying shoes to slow their fall when Annabeth and Percy were coming out of the love ride thingy, but did they really need him there? I mean, did he even help?_ I couldn't remember if he'd made any difference at all. And if he had, I needed to take his place, but I didn't even know how to get to them!

 _Why would those fucking morons leave without me? Why?_

Had they needed him? There was doubt in my mind. But I wasn't entirely sure one way or another - which meant I was morally obligated to be there to help. I guess.

I sighed and turned back into the restaurant, walking straight up the the nervous waitress and tapping her hard on the shoulder. "Um, excuse me," I said.

She looked really startled, but she turned around and looked out at me. I saw the cook peering out of his window. Suspicious to see another kid, I guess. "Uh - um, can I help you out, kid?"

I flashed a smile at her, exposing her to my unfortunate crooked teeth. "I've been photographing abandoned places for my art class at school, and I heard there was this water park around here. Waterland, or something? Do you think you could give me directions?" The smiling was starting to hurt my face already.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. After all, she'd overheard at least some of Ares' conversation with Annabeth and Percy - whatever the Mist had allowed her to hear, anyways. Still, apparently Ares had put her off enough that she wasn't willing to displease anyone who might be associated with him, because she answered anyways, pointing me a few streets out of the way. It would be a forty-five minute walk. I was in shape - I'd run. Or at least jog.

I let my face fall back into its familiar deadpan and nodded. "Thank you, ma'am," I answered, and set out of the diner at a brisk pace, waiting until I was really out of her sight to run. I hadn't run for the sake of running in a long time. Running for a purpose didn't feel as good, but I still felt energized and kind of powerful, if that makes sense. _It's because working out releases endorphins in your brain that act almost the same as heroin,_ I told myself.

 _Geez. Spoilsport._

I wondered if they were lying dead on the asphalt already, or if their innards had been crushed when they hit the water too hard or something (although that last one would have been just Annabeth). I felt myself running faster, but I could also feel myself tiring.

In the distance the sun was setting.

For some reason I'd thought that they spent longer in the diner, but looking back, it had only been a two or three page scene in the books. It had been a shitty idea to go so far out of the way for a stupid convenience store, no matter how much I'd wanted to avoid Ares. Still, I'd have thought they would have waited for me.

Unless something had happened to make them leave without me. Or they hadn't left at all.

Before long, my destination was before me. The park was nothing more than old and decrepit. I couldn't make out the eerie sadness Percy had described in the books. It was too far beyond me. The place was fairly unremarkable compared to a lot of the other abandoned places I'd photographed before, and so, unimpressed, I pushed forward, stomping on a sun-bleached flyer on my way into the park. I remembered that they'd gone past some rides with stupid names, but since all the rides had stupid names, the signs didn't help.

Until I remembered the gift shop. They'd been there, and they'd stolen clothes.

Immediately, the signs seemed more helpful. The one labelled 'GIFT SHOP' pointed slightly to the left of one of those waterslides that look like a giant commode. I ran in that direction, and from there, navigation got a lot easier.

The gift shop (Waterland Wonders: Wow-Worthy Gifts from Your Favorite Water Park) was in a kind of square with a couple of million-year-old hot dog stands and a rusty water fountain. It broke off into several different paths, and as I squinted at the faint lettering of the signs that still remained, I found exactly what I was looking for.

The Thrill Ride of Love.

I sprinted some more. Even though I'd been in shape, my lungs were starting to constrict. After about thirty seconds, I slowed down. I couldn't hear the rushing of water. They weren't dead yet. I could afford to slow down.

What I could hear, though, were voices.

"... shouldn't have left her there. What if she gets attacked by something while we're gone?" Percy was asking worriedly. I almost snorted; _what a mother hen._

"She'll be fine," Annabeth answered dismissively. "And we need to take the time to think things through. If what Ares said had any truth to it -"

I froze. "He's just a jerk," Percy said heatedly.

My footsteps were quiet now; my pulse was racing. They were talking about me. Ares had mentioned _me._ And that was why they'd left me behind? What had he said? He certainly couldn't have suggested that I was the thief. Annabeth and Percy both were smarter than that. I hadn't arrived at camp until the very same night that Percy had. And, as far as I knew, this Amara hadn't even known she was a demigod when the bolt was stolen; she certainly wasn't on Mt. Olympus on the winter solstice. She couldn't have done it. And neither could I, for that matter.

So what was it?

"Percy, you _really_ shouldn't say that," she pressed. I could imagine the self-righteous, exasperated look on her face. My insides ached with dislike. Unless it was just heartburn. "Besides, he had a good point. She has such great instinct. So why doesn't she help more?"

Because I was a coward who was afraid to act and even more afraid to change the plot. After all, how was I supposed to cleverly manipulate the future to my own pleasing if I no longer knew what the future was anymore? "So it's instinct, and Amara's… logical," Percy answered. "She doesn't just want to follow her gut all the time."

"So she's a strategist?" Annabeth replied scathingly. "Percy, my mother's the goddess of strategy, and all the best thinkers will tell you themselves that sometimes the best strategy _is_ to follow your gut."

"Maybe she's just afraid. Aren't you? You've been a hero longer than she has. What was it like for you at first?"

"Well, I was seven."

I couldn't decide whether to feel more guilty or angry. But me being who I was, I felt more angry. I leaned against the cooling stone side of a public bathroom and scraped my back as I fell into a seated position. My head rested between my knees and my hands covered the back of my head. I looked as if I was trying to block out sound. Really, I was just crumbling under the rapidly compounding pressure of existing. Not to mention my frustration. The internal struggle of desire to interfere verses desire to save my own hide was more intense than you might imagine. And it wasn't even as simple as just those two options. There was a lot of nuance to it. It wasn't exactly black or white. There were so many choices in the meantime that it simply couldn't be.

 _I screw up trying to play with the plot and Annabeth or Percy or worse both of them die._

 _I end up dying because I get killed in a fight following either path._

 _I change the plot too much and suddenly I'm on even ground with everyone else._ I almost felt bad for seeing this as a bad thing, but I did. And it was.

 _I somehow turn Percy against the gods._

 _I can't get rid of Gabe._

 _I remain unclaimed. I never discover how to use my mother to my advantage._

 _I can't win. But I'm losing the trust of the others. I can't afford to fall under suspicion. Thanks to my mom, who apparently likes to enshroud herself in mystery instead of at least giving me hints along the way, I have no other support. I'm too inexperienced to go without. I need them._

 _What that means is -_

… _it means…_

 _My course of action has been decided._

 _Things have to change. Starting now._

* * *

 _Decided to update quite early because I love you guys! Also, I've been making pretty great progress with this story, so I was really looking forward to posting this so we can move on._

 _Guest 1;; We'll have to wait and see!  
Guest 2;; Yeah. If you're looking for recommendations, though, check out _**When the Moon Fades** _by_ imaginexwriter9. _It's well worth the read, and features a male OC who is both very interesting and not overpowered._

 _Next update Feb 1._


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

Obviously, I couldn't allow the two of them to be crushed against the concrete - which was, as it turned out, the only way to go, since the pools were all dry as bones. At the same time, I wouldn't exactly be helping them if I followed them into the trap. Then I'd be just as screwed as they were. _Right?_

 _How did the trap work?_ I couldn't remember what the trigger was, but really, that there was a trigger was all that mattered. The trigger, the water, and then the spiders. Had there been nets, or was that in the myth? I furiously pounded on my temples, as if it would help somehow, but succeeded only in giving myself a massive, momentary headache.

 _Yeah, there's this net, and they had to get out of it somehow. If they didn't, they'd drown. Right._

Objective one: wait for the opportune moment and then get rid of the net. The problem? I didn't know how. And honestly, I couldn't remember the details of this particular part of the book, but I seriously doubted that any net made by Hephaestus to catch his adulterous whore of a wife and her jerk boyfriend would be some ordinary net. I remembered that it was gold. Golden nets were used in the stories to catch the gods a bunch of times. But what made them really special?

I seemed to remember that the golden strands shot out of somewhere, and formed the net that way. So what if I could block the source so that a portion of the trap was left open? That way at least they wouldn't be trapped under heavy metal to drown. _Of course, Percy wouldn't drown, and neither would Annabeth if he helped her, but the currents would eventually bring them to a halt. So that can't happen._

The Cupid statues. _That_ was where the nets came from. I just needed to knock a couple of them out. Then they could go up the slope, through the net, and hopefully hightail it away from the mechanical spiders. It would work. It _had_ to work.

 _But what about the water?_

I didn't need to worry about that just then. Because… _that had been Percy's brilliant idea._

I slung my bookbag to the ground, leaving only my shotgun on my back, and shortly in my hands. I needed to make short work of this. Because I knew, when I heard a quiet echo of Annabeth's voice saying something about a trap, that it would be roughly a minute before they were netted in with a hoard of automaton arachnids. After that, Annabeth would be about as useful to Percy as a fat kid in the weight room, and I'd be forced to rely on good timing to save them in the very same way Grover had in the books. That wasn't good enough.

I cocked the gun, the click resounding through the mouth of the Thrill Ride of Love. Almost immediately, both Annabeth and Percy stared up at me, their eyes wide with shock. "Hurry and get up here," I snapped, raising my shotgun to the Cupids directly across from me. _Never shoot at solid objects like trees, walls, rocks, or the ground, or at water. This may result in ricochet and the injury or even death of a member of your company or you._

Hunter safety 101. Unfortunately, I was a lot more worried about the net. I didn't have any other reasonable force with which to destroy the Cupids. Even if I had, would it have worked? I can't say. After all, Hephaestus had tampered with the ride, and I wouldn't have put it past him to make sure they were sturdy in case Ares decided to throw his shield at them. Or, y'know, the boat. My only hope was that the Celestial Bronze buckshot loaded in my shotgun right now would be enough to stop them working. At least then a four or five foot area would be clear of netting so that they could climb through.

I shot. _Lather, rinse, repeat._

I didn't feel dead, and I hadn't realized that I'd shut my eyes, so I opened them. Across from me, there were four smoking Cupids, though one of them might still have been functional. Success. And given that no one was screaming below, no ricochet.

Still, Percy had been startled enough to slide a ways down the slope, and Annabeth sounded breathless when she cried, "Amara, what -"

She got her answer shortly before she was able to finish asking the question, she got her answer. As I'd shot, the Cupids had changed positions, aiming their arrows at different angles so that, when their arrows shot, netting connected, they'd form the world's thinnest pizza slices in the air. "Hurry up!" I shouted as the fired. The mechanical uproar around us got louder for a moment, and then the Cupids' arms took jerky movements backwards before arrows, followed by thin strings of glittering gold, whistled across the pool. "Hurry up!"

"Sorry!" Annabeth cried frustratedly. "The slope -"

I was listening to Annabeth, but I was also watching the golden threads, which were _growing._ I kid you not - _growing._ As in new metal was forming from nothing, reaching across to other stands and latching on to form a checked, gleaming spider's web, with a big, ugly gap in a portion of it, like it had been a victim of a cruel kid lobbing a rock.

 _A spider's web._

There was more mechanical humming. "Toss up the scarf!" I ordered desperately.

" _Live to Olympus in one minute…_ "

"What?" Annabeth asked.

" _Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight, fifty-se -_ "

"I saw you with a fugly pink scarf!" I shouted. "Toss it up already!"

Luckily, she did it before there was another loud hum, and the creaking of the mirrors behind her, and six feet on either side of her, opened up. Some of them shattered against the side of the pool, but you couldn't really make out the sound over the clicking of a thousand clicking automation legs and pincers.

"Spiders! Sp-sp - aaah!" Annabeth screamed, starting to slide down and into Percy. I heard him grunt and try to push them both up faster, but with her immobile, it was impossible.

I hurriedly dangled the scarf down the slope like a rope and prayed it would hold. It was real silk, not synthetic, and seemed quite a bit sturdier, and since it was all I had, it had to work. "Annabeth, grab the silk and I'll pull you up." She was frozen, and I shouted in frustration, my words forming an irritated growl akin to: "OR THE SPIDERS WILL GET YOU!"

She grabbed the rope and began to climb with more fervor than ever before. With me pulling her up, she made it through easily. Percy was another story. He was close behind her, but a bunch off the spiders had attached something like fine silk floss to his legs. Annabeth took several gulping breaths, gagged, and then told me, "Help me pull him up."

In her typical bossy fashion. Like she hadn't just gone full retard. Still, I nodded, and tossed down the scarf a second time. Percy was being dragged down by the weight of three metal spiders, so it came as no surprise when he grabbed the scarf with no hesitation, and then it took Annabeth and I together to pull him out of the gap in the net.

The good thing? We got Percy out, and the deluge of spiders following him were spitting so much of the golden stuff that they actually managed to complete the net and trap themselves inside.

The bad? A good four of them had made it out with them. I promptly stomped several times on one of the three attached to Percy, and the other two detached themselves, glaring through their mechanical eyes with a vengeance and disappearing into buildings and rides. It occurred to me that we'd have to be on the lookout for ambushes on the way out.

Apparently, Annabeth was thinking the same thing, because she looked about ready to faint dead on the concrete.

"We've got to get out of here," gasped Percy, holding the shield at his side - I'd forgotten it. "In case the net doesn't hold."

"You're right," I answered, and thought Annabeth could scarcely speak, it was mind-blowingly clear that she was fully in agreement. Chest heaving, she rose up, and had run far behind us my the time I retrieved my bookbag. Percy was waiting for me, and the two of us turned back to the pool, where we could see the mangled remainders of the Cupids I'd shot and the cameras sticking out of the heads of all the others. There was suddenly a bright light in my eyes; I squinted and turned away.

"Show's over!" Percy yelled. "Thank you! Good night!"

"That's all for now, ladies and gents," I muttered softly, shaking my head and gripping the pink scarf still wound resolutely between my fingers. "We'll have to run. Annabeth's probably back at the diner my now."

In spite of himself, Percy let out a snort.

And so, though my body was _so_ not ready for it, we set off in a slow jog after the daughter of Athena and tried not to think about the practical giant spider egg sack less than a football field behind us.

* * *

The feelings of total discontent and self-pity didn't really begin to settle back in until we'd caught up to Annabeth and were over halfway to the diner. We'd finally slowed to a reasonable pace (a slow walk) and still my heart fluttered in my chest as I recovered from a near traumatic experience. My lungs still seemed to fill a little too much with each breath, so it was almost like I was high on oxygen. I had the uncomfortable feeling that my head was floating above my shoulders, something I often feel when I first wake up.

The difference being that, just then, my thoughts were actually clear.

It slowly returned to mind that the reason I'd had to book it to save them was that they'd left me behind. They'd left me behind because that douche Ares had suggested that I might be… a traitor? or something? Whatever it was, it pissed me off that they'd hear something like that and abandon me at the drop of a hat, even if it was just temporarily. I felt my lips jerk, like they wanted to frown, but I retained my facade of emotionlessness just because I didn't feel quite angry enough to be as mean as I wanted to be.

Is that as bad as it sounds? Yes. I was itching for a fight, and not with monsters. I'd been here for months, and I hadn't had a chance to vent my frustrations. Except for some cheek directed at my mother, I hadn't told or shown anyone how angry I was to be here and not at home. I was infuriated. My life was at risk. I would probably never see my family again. I was in a fake world that wasn't a fake world anymore. My every sense of reality was being unraveled. I didn't even know who my stupid mom was.

Now Percy and Annabeth had apparently decided that I was a terrible enough person that they could believe whatever obviously bad thing Ares had said about me. I hadn't been completely honest with them, sure, but that would be impossible, given my circumstances. I was doing the best I could. I was just a coward. Definitely too much of one to betray them or steal the bolt or try to back out of the quest and make it on my own. The fact that they hadn't known that, or at least considered it enough not to leave me and deal with the water park alone, was almost enough to push me over the edge. I didn't exactly expect them to stalwartly stick to my side and defend my character. After all, Annabeth and I were always nagging each other, and I stubbornly refused to return Percy's offers of friendship.I just wanted them to judge me as the person that I was, and not be so easily manipulated by someone who was so obviously a piece of shit, god or not.

My standards didn't seem too high to me.

So it didn't take much stewing over it all to bring me to the emotional boiling point. My hands started clenching involuntarily into fists. I felt myself working my jaw. And I was well aware that my ears had to be roughly the same color as your average fire engine. I was so ready to yell. I was so ready to be angry. Even though Percy and Annabeth would probably look at me much differently after they realized that I was much more than some pokerface, lonely little brat.

Actually, that kind of seemed like a pro.

Still, I decided it would be nice to wait to yell. If I was provoked, it would seem more natural to be this angry, and I wouldn't have to tell them that I'd eavesdropped and that I knew they'd met with Ares, etc. etc. It would lead to too many questions. Instead, I very quietly said, "It was nice of you to leave me. I was worried when I got back to the diner and _no one was there._ "

They both seemed to be mulling over what to say. Finally, Annabeth said, "We're really sorry about that. It's a long story, but right after you left, Ares showed up."

You know, only in that world would that ever work as an excuse. And only in that world would anyone ever believe it.

"He gave us a quest. He wanted us to recover his shield, and there's no way we could have just turned him down." I didn't look at her, but I imagined the lies flowing smoothly and easily. It sparked the flames a little more, which was admittedly hypocritical of me, no matter how I hungered for an argument.

Percy jumped in, almost hesitantly, and added, "We waited, but you didn't show up. We're in a hurry, and we just… we thought you could catch up."

For some reason, it surprised me, but it probably shouldn't have. Percy was known in the books for his infallible loyalty, not for his honesty. He lied sometimes. He kept quiet sometimes. Even from his friends. Still, I felt angrier than ever. Percy'd known me a lot longer than Annabeth had. _Shouldn't he have some sense of who I am by now? Shouldn't he realize that I've tried to help him along or at least be around to help as much as I can? Shouldn't he have realized that it was a bad idea to leave me behind, and that it's a bad idea to lie about it?_ "You waited for me," I answered, my words sounding angry to my own ears. "I was only gone for, like, twenty minutes tops."

"You said it would be five," Annabeth said tersely. My entire body twitched in annoyance.

I replied, "I was filthy, okay? I wanted to change. And it took me five minutes to even walk there. But you guys were having a conversation. I bet by the time you were finished it _would_ have been a five-minute wait. You couldn't wait five minutes?"

"We were in a hurry."

"Such a hurry, apparently, that you had to rely on an untrained rookie to track you down, run all the way to freaking Waterland, and airlift both of your pathetic asses out of the Thrill Ride of Love and Imminent Destruction," I snapped, my voice growing louder with every word.

"Amara, we're sorry," Percy put in desperately, apparently sensing the oncoming storm. "Ares offered us information. We really didn't want to lose the chance, and -"

"So you ran off and left me _on my own?_ What did I do to you?" I snapped, my vocal chords strained now. "What if I'd been attacked when I was on my own? Or what if I hadn't made it here and you morons got eaten to death by those spiders? That would definitely make a great impression on mom and dad, huh?"

"Shut up, Amara," Annabeth replied, eyebrows scrunching. "Maybe we just didn't think you'd be helpful. So far, you've either been chicken or just incapable of much more than shooting something from a safe distance away."

"Maybe so!" I roared, feeling all the awesome power of anger rushing through me now. "I told you, Percy. You should have picked someone else to come. Someone with experience. Someone worthy of the company and attention of the brave, bold Percy and the infinitely knowledgeable hero Annabeth over there. Is that what you want? Do you want me to leave?"

"I didn't say that! No one said that!" he protested desperately. "Annabeth -"

"But _wait._ Annabeth isn't as smart as she thinks or she wouldn't have strutted straight into a trap like that. And you're not so brave or you wouldn't have caved and let Queen IQ make you walk off without me. Because apparently this was her stupid idea."

"It wasn't!" Percy cried.

"Oh? Was it yours, Percy? I guess you wear the pants in this relationship after all," I snapped waspishly, enjoying the odd mixture of guilt, frustration, and turmoil in his face.

"It wasn't his idea, Amara. You're shouting at us for all the wrong reasons," Annabeth told me, schooling her voice into a cool, even tone. "Ares suggested that you seemed to know a lot and do a little. Obviously he just wanted to see us fight like this, but at the time, we - _I_ wanted to at least think about it. You were taking a while. It seemed like a good time."

"I bet you think that was a great decision in hindsight," I responded bitingly. I could feel that my lips were curled into a sarcastic smile. Other than that, my face was frozen into a mask of pure rage.

" _No,_ " she answered.

"Oh?" I breathed. "Because I think you're _very_ happy with yourself. Otherwise, you'd -"

"We're _sorry,_ " Percy interrupted. "He offered me information. About my mom, okay? I just wanted to go."

I was abruptly silenced. My energy, spent. "Fine."

Silence. After a few long minutes, Annabeth spoke, seemingly willing, finally, to deliver the apology I felt I'd so deserved only minutes ago. "Amara, I… I'm -"

"Shut up," I said. "I said it was fine."

They had the shield. _Time to collect._

* * *

Even by the time we got to the diner, I was still very aware of my blood rushing with the excitement of the argument. Of course, there was also an unshakable feeling of heaviness from guilt - _how could I be so selfish?_ \- but I felt energized. Refreshed. I felt like myself. And I just couldn't bring myself to be disturbed by the fact that _myself_ was so angry that having a yelling match had made me feel more relieved than I'd been in months.

"You look pissed already," I noted upon examination of Percy's features. Sure enough, his mouth was starting to twist into a scowl. "I don't really know what Ares is like, but… watch yourself."

Percy looked slightly more upset. He probably thought it was bull that I was preaching to him about self-control. He was right. "He put us all in danger. He's a complete jerk. You _know_ he could have gotten that shield himself! Ares just wanted to humiliate us!"

"Amara's right, though," Annabeth noted, surprising me. She had her hands shoved in her pockets and her mouth was pressed into a thin line as she talked. "Ares is the war god, and the last thing we need is for him to have a bad impression of us while we're heading into what's probably the most dangerous place for any demigod ever." I thought about Annabeth and Percy suffering together in Tartarus and almost laughed. _Almost._ "If we make Ares angry right before we enter Hades's lair to confront him about stealing another god's symbol of power… it could be bad."

Percy seemed to accept what Annabeth was saying. She was so level-headed and logical that it was hard not to. He nodded. "Maybe… maybe you should do the talking when we get there."

I surprised myself by agreeing readily. "Percy's right. He and I are both hot heads sometimes. You seem to have a handle on yourself. You should do it."

Annabeth's fatal flaw was hubris, but it didn't bother me to see pride crossing her face in a flash as she beamed. "I'll do it."

In only a matter of minutes, we could see the diner. Ares was in the parking lot by his bike, which was actually the first thing to _really_ catch my eye. I saw the seat and immediately found myself in agreement with Percy's statements in the books: it was human leather. If you've ever heard of Ed Gein, or looked at pictures of his little momentos, you know how human skin gets varying shades of beige to pasty red as it ages, and how it's kind of… shiny. This was no nipple belt. but I was immediately pretty revolted, and redirected my eyes towards Ares himself.

Ares wasn't really as handsome as I'd imagined. I'd always thought he'd look a lot like John Winchester from Supernatural for some reason, but he was a lot more bulky and a lot more… square. Ares kind of reminded me of a lifelike Bluto. On steroids. I could tell that he was pretty heavily built in the muscular sense because of the way his red shirt hugged parts of his form, but his arms, which were probably beefed up as well, we hidden by his ugly coat. Ares was wearing skinny jeans. His outfit was pretty ugly overall. He was channeling the hipsters of the future. All he needed was to grow out his gross, dirty looking hair and tie it into a man bun.

I looked at his ugly red sunglasses and felt my anger at Annabeth and Percy reignite. I looked away.

"Well, well," Ares reckoned, eying us with interest. "You didn't get yourself killed."

I heard Annabeth swallow before she answered. "It was a close call. Percy?"

Percy produced Ares's shield, handing it over in silence, though we could all see that it was taking considerable effort. I myself was fighting the urge to shout at someone again for any reason at all, but Percy didn't step on my toe or anything when he walked by, and I was left uncomfortably frustrated. "Yeah," Ares continued, "I bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when his trap didn't manage to catch a single thing. You made your television debut, by the way," he said, "running away." His teeth were very white when he flashed them at us. I imagined they were serrated, like a shark's. He tossed his shield in the air and caught it on the tips of his fingers. As it spun, it slowly flattened out and melted onto his body underneath his coat, forming a black Kevlar vest.

I could see that Annabeth was angry now, her face red with embarrassment. "Sometimes retreat is the wisest choice."

Ares seemed to disagree, as I'd have expected by a god obsessed with his own bloodlust. Maybe he was failing to consider that if we opposed anyone in this situation, it would have been him, since he'd knowingly sent them off into that death trap. He looked amused, as if he was thinking, _You'll know better when you're older._ But he didn't really say anything. Instead, he pointed at a semi that pulled into the lot as we walked up. "See that truck over there? That's your ride." The trailer of the semi was black on all the places the paint hadn't peeled off, except for large, white, all-caps Times New Roman text that had the audacity to note that it was humane transport for zoo animals. "Take you straight to LA, with one stop in Vegas."

Percy opened his mouth. I kicked him. He grunted. "Thanks," he said half-heartedly.

Ares seemed even more self-satisfied. With a snap of his fingers, the doors swung creakily open. There was a faint smell of old dung in the air. "Free ride west. Oh, and here's a little something for doing the job."

He slung an expensive-looking blue bookbag at Percy, who caught it without much problem. Percy glanced at Annabeth and I - probably because we were both intensely glaring at him - and said, "Thanks again."

"We really appreciate it, Lord Ares," Annabeth added as Percy rifled through the pack. _Oreos? I hate Oreos._

"Thanks," I agreed.

"You owe me one more thing… Lord Ares," Percy said, his voice wavering as he slung the backpack over his shoulder. I stared through the diner window, where that bitchy waitress and the cook were stowing away a disposable camera. Media-wise, the tides were about to turn. Good. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" The god hopped onto his Geinercycle and kickstarted it, staring Percy down with a knowing grin that made me want to pound his face into the concrete. "She's not dead."

Percy took a miniscule step back, almost like he was feeling disoriented. Maybe I should have reached out to him. I didn't. "What do you mean?"

Where it had initially seemed stupid to me that he hadn't guessed the hostage thing himself, it suddenly dawned on me that he was twelve. Plus, his mom had erupted into a shower of gold. You know, like the Minotaur had after he _killed it._ It wasn't exactly leaps and bounds of logic to come to the conclusion Percy had. And he'd probably been too busy training to think too much else about it. _He hasn't even been allowed to grieve, has he?_ "I mean she was taken away from the MInotaur before she could die," Ares replied condescendingly. "She turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death." Which explained why monsters, too, burst into gold; they didn't really _die_ , _Why is this just now occurring to me?_ "She's being kept."

"Kept?" Percy replied desperately. "Why?"

"You need to study war, punk. Hostages." Crap. _Isn't this about where things went really sour?_ "You take somebody to control somebody else."

Percy looked angry and relieved at the same time. "Nobody's controlling me."

"They sort of are, Percy," I reckoned, and he narrowed his eyes at me. "You're a twelve-year-old getting ready to venture into the land of the dead who clearly has every hope of recovering Mom. You couldn't really be more transparent. Anyways, what could Hades want from you if he has the bolt?"

Percy's expression went from _slightly angrier_ to _really confused._ Ares, on the other hand, was studying me with a newfound interest that didn't make me squirm. Surprisingly to me, I actually felt powerful. Like I could rip his throat out, and like he deserved it.

I bit my lip.

"Not my problem, kid," he said dismissively, though he didn't take his eyes off me. "But you're smart enough." I decided he was addressing our general group now. 'Smart' from Ares, directed at me individually, did _not_ sound like a compliment. "Figure it out."

It felt a lot more like he was still trying to suggest that I already knew and wasn't doing anything about it. Cue the internal struggle.

"We'll meet again, Percy Jackson," Ares said, and in a half a second, he was gone, his motorcycle turning a corner and out of sight.

"Well, that was horrible," I noted just as he turned out of sight.

"He's a jerk," Percy snapped in an echo of his earlier self.

Annabeth, on the other hand, seemed more thoughtful. "Amara, I know you were only talking so that Percy didn't get us all turned into roadkill, but -"

"Hey!" Percy interjected.

Annabeth continued seamlessly. "- I think you might have been onto something." She bit her lip. "I guess that when we get there, Hades could tell us to leave without the bolt and in return, you get your mother… but it would be just as simple for him to just kill us as soon as we get in range. If he's keeping a hostage, then he wants to negotiate something."

My pulse jumped in my throat. I could really change things here. But I had, like, zero time to plan! "We can discuss later. I think our ride's about to leave."

"Yeah, those Kindness International people are checking out," Percy said, turning to the eighteen wheeler and eying it with disgust.

"You're right," Annabeth muttered, almost to herself. "We'll have to go."

So, in a rush, we ran across the street and piled into the trailer. I pulled myself in last, the stench hitting me in a blast of hot air as I squinted my eyes. I rubbed my fists against them only to find that they'd teared up. I might as well have been cutting onions.

"That's ripe," noted Percy, and I groaned in agreement as I opened my eyes a slit, a glint of light on metal at my feet blinding me as I pulled the doors shut.

"We need to stop banging around," said Annabeth, who, unsurprisingly, was the first to gain her wits what with the overpowering stench. "Those guys will notice."

Percy and I nodded, and I finally opened my eyes all the way. The only reason I could see at all was because of Riptide's glowing blade, which Percy must have uncapped. That accounted for some of the godawful racket we'd made getting into the trailer, then. It was otherwise black, and the air was full of dust. Worse yet was the dirty, slightly damp hay on the floor. No doubt that and the fertilizer smell were working together to produce an odor akin to an unclean litter box. As Percy was thinking at that very moment, a really _big_ litter box.

Of course, the disgusting, unsanitary floor was far from the worst of it. More important were the animals. There were three of them: the first, a pale, thin lion, whose fur was thin and fine on his white skin; the second, a dirtied zebra who looked incredibly lethargic as it stood stock still, flies buzzing around the drying gum in its messy mane. The final animal was a practically emaciated impala that stared at the pile of smelly hamburger in front of him and then turned away, leaving a half-spent balloon tied to its horn trailing after in midair.

A large fly landed _in the zebra's eye._ I thought about all the videos of sad little African kids with flies walking all over their faces, who didn't seem to care, and shivered with revulsion. Those kids lived in third-world, developing countries. This was America. We have high standards even for animals, and we have the good fortune of keeping them. I knew that at least some of the credit had to go back to Kindness International, but I felt suddenly angry at the two guys driving the truck. The company had hired them and installed those horrible, too small cages, but those two guys were responsible for the current filthy conditions, giving turnips to a freaking lion, the gum, and…

"Amara, what are you doing?" Percy asked as I slowly approached the cage with the impala. I'd been worried that it would be nervous thanks to the cruelty with which it had obviously been treated. Fortunately (or unfortunately), this wasn't the case. The impala seemed too tired to move, and as I slipped my hands through the bars and began untying the string wrapped around the smooth horn of the animal, it was unnaturally still.

"When this balloon runs out of air, it becomes a choking hazard to the impala," I answered. "Not to mention that this string could strangle him." I finished untying it and slowly began to withdraw my hand. _The common impala. It's not endangered, but that doesn't mean existing specimens shouldn't be treated with care. Namesake of a really rad car._

"Be careful," Percy told me, though he sounded in full agreement with my actions and not exactly warning.

"I wonder if this is legal," Annabeth pondered. "Obviously these conditions can't be. But what about this entire business? There's no way this is actually _zoo_ transport."

I agreed. And just as my hand rew from the bars, the impala head-butted it gently. It startled me, and I let go of the balloon, which floated weakly a foot below the top of the trailer. I could swear that I'd never seen an animal look more grateful. "No problem. Just be glad _you_ don't have gum in your hair," I muttered, and examined the rest of its frail body. Maybe I had magical animal talking abilities, too. With antelope. Probably deer by extension. _Which would narrow my mother down to… Artemis?_

I waited.

 _Probably not._

I turned my back and tried to pretend that I wasn't expecting/vainly hoping for something to happen. Nothing did. Either I couldn't talk to wild animals, or this impala was really not interested in speaking up. I tried not to feel disappointed. While my partners in crime tried to sit down anywhere that wasn't soaked in urine, I stayed standing, even though it was a bumpy ride. I might not have been able to talk to that impala, but I felt like I'd accomplished something. And after we stopped in Vegas, or better yet LA if nothing went wrong, I would _accomplish_ a whole lot more.

The thought was pleasing enough that I almost fell asleep standing up, until a bunch of turnips rolled out of the bag for no apparent reason and hit my feet and ankles, effectively scaring the crap out of me. I growled and kicked one. It hit the side of the trailer.

It rebounded. "Amara!" cried Annabeth as her Oreo flew out of her hand.

"Heheh… sorry…"

* * *

 _I hope you guys enjoyed the update!_

 _Guest 1: Thank you!_

 _Guest 2: Sixth grade. I looked up NY's grade six curriculum to find something for Mrs. Dodds to teach, and that was on the guide, so I went with it._

 _Gooest: Sorry :( Not everyone's going to like it. On the bright side, there are tons of those fics out there._

 _Okay, so regarding our next update. I know where I'm going with this story, but there's some major crap going down soon and I want to figure out the specifics. So I'll post the next chapter when I get fifteen reviews (from different reviewers) and then after that it might be a while until the next update. Cool? Thanks for your support, everyone!_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"You want one?" I asked my friend the impala, holding up an Oreo. "They're vegan."

The impala just stared at me.

"We could at least move that hamburger meat within reach of the lion," Annabeth said, sounding angrier with each word as she took in the absurd conditions of the animals once more.

"That's a great idea, but how are we supposed to do that without spilling hamburger all over the place or being mauled?" Percy asked.

Both great questions, I thought. "If we bend the styrofoam trays a little, they'll fit through the bars and we shouldn't spill too much of the burger."

Annabeth nodded, but she also looked skeptical. "You're right, but then how do we get it to the lion? If he's as hungry as he looks, it's a bad idea to go anywhere near that cage."

"We could just kick it in," Percy said. "It might make a mess, but at least that way some of the burger will make it to the lion without any of us dying."

"If we make a mess like that and those guys come back here to check on the animals when they stop in Vegas, it won't matter if we hide," Annabeth argued. "They'll know someone was in here."

"They'll know anyways," I pointed out carelessly.

"How?" Annabeth asked. "Obviously they don't care enough about the animals to remember who got what food."

"You're half right," I affirmed, well aware that I was a sentence away from making her angry. I'd have to very closely watch my mouth. "Notice what they gave to each animal. Plant-based food to our only carnivore, a lion, and meat to a zebra and a common impala. Both of those animals are herbivores, which you can tell just by looking at them."

"No one is that stupid," Annabeth said slowly, looking more and more angry.

Percy bristled with alarm and asked, "Wait, so you're saying those guys did this on purpose?"

I shrugged, like I didn't really care. "They're bored and probably resent that they're getting paid just above minimum wage to cart these animals around all day. On whom else could they take out their anger?"

"That's sick," snapped Percy.

"We should wait to move things until after the stop in Las Vegas, then," Annabeth said. She didn't sound very happy about it.

"Probably," I agreed, and Percy more hesitantly nodded his assent.

"Couldn't we at least give the zebra and the ante - the impala some turnips, though?" Percy asked. "We won't have to move anything. And if they eat them before we stop, then no one will notice."

"If they eat them," Annabeth agreed. "Do impalas and zebras eat turnips?"

"Not in natural circumstances. I'm fairly certain that turnips grow in temperate climates, not on the African savanna," I answered. Then I looked at the impala. "I don't know. Do you eat turnips?"

Nothing.

"How about you?" I asked the zebra, then sighed and rubbed between my eyebrows. "I guess w -"

"Did you guys hear that?" Percy asked, alarmed.

Crap. I did say I was going to start making changes. "Hear what?" Annabeth asked.

"I didn't hear anything," I noted enviously.

"I think it was the zebra," Percy continued.

You know, only in that world would that ever work as an excuse. And only in that world would anyone ever believe it.

"I think you're dehydrated," I said.

Annabeth, as usual, was right on top of things. She looked thoughtful, and her grey eyes sparkled with discovery. "Zebras are equines, and Poseidon is the lord of horses," she reasoned. "Maybe you're able to communicate with them."

"Equids," I corrected. Annabeth ignored me. "So Percy can talk to horses?" I knew I didn't sound surprised enough. It was more like I was about to say, What do the horses say, Percy? Like I was talking to a three-year-old.

"Maybe," she answered. "What did it say?"

Percy seemed almost doubtful of himself, answering, "He said that they were hungry enough that they'd eat anything. Even turnips."

Then let them eat turnips, I thought, and resisted saying it out loud. Between my angry outbursts and talking to the impala, my behavior had probably been odd enough. If I did much more, they would probably become concerned for me. Instead, I picked up one of the turnips that had rolled in my general direction the night before and stuck my hand through the bars, holding it in my hand like I would an apple around a horse. The impala plucked the turnip out of my hand in a second flat. "Dehydrated or not, Percy's right. These two are starving. Let's feed them."

Percy kicked a couple of more turnips into the cage with the zebra. The zebra immediately stooped down and began eating them immediately, while the lion in the cage to the side began to pace.

"That's it," Annabeth sighed. "I don't care if they notice. We're feeding this lion."

Considering that this was an improvement on her earlier suggestion of letting all the animals, including the lion, roam free in the trailer with us, I decided to agree with her. As it happened, Percy acted faster than I could speak. In an instant, he used Riptide to snag the styrofoam tray and squish it through the bars of the zebra's cage. He dragged the tray so that it was just outside of the lion's cage and pushed in the meat. While the lion pounced, he did the same with the impala's raw hamburger.

Didn't even need to think about the 'how's. The stalwart and kind Percy Jackson had apparently been so enraged over the condition of these animals that, in spite of his own problems, he'd thought of a plan to feed them without getting eaten. What a Hufflepuff.

"How long have we been on the road?" I asked.

Annabeth shrugged. "You were awake all night, weren't you? You'd probably know best."

"My sense of time is terrible, and between the smell and the misery radiating off of the 'zoo' animals over there, it might as well have been a week," I answered.

"I felt pretty rested when I woke up, and it's been a couple of hours since then," Percy said. "So… eight or nine hours?"

The trailer suddenly came to a halt. "Make that ten," I said as I banged into the wall, grunting in pain.

We'd reached Vegas already. It had taken forever for us to get here, but it also felt all too soon. We would hide, and then we would make it to the Underworld early. Days early. There was no reason to stop here. Since Grover wasn't here to do the call of the wild or whatever, there was no rhyme or reason to let out those animals. We'd just be sentencing them - and some tourists, thanks to the hungry lion - to death. There was no way they could survive here.

Way that replacing Grover with me was a fail #32804.

We heard a door slam outside. Annabeth said something under her breath that sounded like a series of crude phrases in ancient Greet. "They're coming to check on the animals!" she said as footsteps came closer to use outside the trailer. "Hide!"

She lifted her cap out of her pockets and, in a flash, she was gone. Very nice. Very convenient. Except for the fact that the rest of us couldn't do that. Percy and I made eye contact and dashed for the sacks of turnips in the corner. It was a tight fit, but we were at least partially hidden. Percy smelled really rank. Being in close quarters with him was classifiably not awesome.

A moment passed, and then there was the cracking noise of the doors opening. I smelled the outdoors before I saw it; where there'd been a blast of cat litter air coming in, there was now a blast of lovely polluted city air. I wanted to gasp it in. I felt quite sorry for myself.

Then I registered sunlight on the disgusting floor of the trailer. I cringed as the shadow of a large man fell across it. "Man! I wish I hauled appliances!" he announced to the world, fanning a hand in front of a face that seemed to be the veteran of many a bar brawl/train accident. He was hardly one to talk. After all, he was filthy, and worse yet, wearing coveralls. The same coveralls as the day before. They'd stopped twice in the night. No time to change, apparently. Swine.

He lifted himself into the trailer, grunting like it took actual effort, and then dirtied his hands even further by wiping them on his pants. The cringe was strong with this one and he wasn't even talking. He may as well have been a teenager reading slam poetry.

He grabbed the water jug we'd decided not to use and began to fill their water bowls, his nose wrinkling at the sight (or smell) of each animal. When he filled the impala's dish, he looked thoughtfully at the jug of water, and then back at the lion. I scowled. He muttered something about needing a bath. You're right on that count, buddy.

Then he approached the lion's cage, where the albino was lapping up water from a bowl, and whistled to get its attention. "You hot, big boy?" he asked sarcastically, and in a half-second had thrown the entire remainder of the water into the lion's face. Flies shot off into every direction, and the lion roared so intensely that the bag of turnips in front of me wobbled. Percy tensed, whether at the man or the turnips, and I grabbed the feed sack to keep it from falling over.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said dismissively, tossing the jug aside. He walked to the doors and bent over, like he really wanted a well-placed kick in the ass, and then picked a Happy Meal bag off the ground. This Happy Meal, probably with chicken nuggets or something, was promptly chucked at the very herbivorous impala.

I bit my lip.

"How ya doin', Stripes?" he continued, presumably addressing the zebra. "Least we'll be getting rid of you this stop. You like magic shows? You'll love this one! They're gonna saw you in half!"

Percy tensed again. I thought of the shotgun on my back. It was really too bad the Celestial bronze was useless in this situation. Some people are just really deserving of a swift and merciless dispatch. "We have to get him out," Percy muttered softly.

I had no idea how we were going to do that, but there was no way this was going to continue.

Apparently, Annabeth was way ahead of us. As soon as the first knock sounded, I knew who it was. "What do you want, Eddie?" snapped our trucker.

Eddie answered pretty quickly. He sounded like his mouth was full of food. "Maurice? What'd ya say?"

Maurice sounded very annoyed. "What are you banging for?"

"What banging?" replied Eddie loudly.

Maurice sighed exaggeratedly and rolled his eyes, stomping out of the trailer like a mad little kid. "Fucking Eddie. Real dumbass if I ev…"

The instant he was out of sight, I went for a little piece of green and white plastic rope sitting beside the turnips and ran to to the zebra's cage. "Percy, since you speak equid, tell this guy to stick with me, okay? Slash the lock off his cage."

Percy looked really confused, but he helped me bust the zebra out, and scratched his head as he thought about how to communicate. Unless he was just communicating. I didn't have time for this. I took the rope and tied it loosely around the zebra's neck to use as a lead. "We have to get out of here before those guys bust us. Come on," I muttered.

Annabeth reappeared in front of us, startling the impala. "What about the other animals?"

"Take my shotgun and fire it just outside the trailer. The cops will come. This is Vegas; they're probably all over the place." Apparently what I said made sense, because in a few short seconds, I was relieved of my shotgun. "Percy, my bookbag - it's behind that sack of turnips there. Would you grab it for me?"

"No problem," he said, "but where are we going?"

"Gee, I don't know," I hissed. "Anywhere a zebra would be inconspicuous. Come on!" I turned. I heard Percy moved quickly behind me. Something fell, and then more things fell. I groaned. Percy had managed to knock over that sack of turnips.

Annabeth, who had stepped out of the trailer, turned around. I guess she wanted to see what the racket was. She opened her mouth to say something, but the instant she could see inside the trailer, she looked totally horrified. She screamed. There was a weird hissing noise. Percy said, "Spider!" I turned around to look at the automaton spider that had just crawled out of the sack of turnips. Stripes looked frightened.

Annabeth screamed again. She fired the shotgun.

In the direction of the spider.

And Percy.

And me.

Oh, not to mention the zebra.

Percy screamed. I screamed. And the zebra? It took off running. So, of course, I screamed some more.

"Amara!" Annabeth screamed as I was dragged after the zebra. She and Percy took off after me.

"Hey!" cried Eddie.

"Hey!" shouted Maurice.

"Hey!" echoed a cop. "You have to have a permit for that!"

The lion and the antelope were taken care of. That was great and all, but this zebra was running about a million miles an hour and I couldn't let go of the lead rope. Not that I was leading anymore. The point is that after a momentary rush of relief, I focused back on what was happening and started running faster. If I couldn't keep up with the zebra, I'd be dragged, which was potentially deadly. Unfortunately, if I was running, that made it a lot harder to get loose of the little rope, which seemed to have become tangled. Fortunately, I was quickly hit with a burst of inspiration. "Maia!"

It wasn't a terrible idea, but let's just say my flight was experiencing a little turbulence. Plus, the mortals probably thought it was a foot-stuck-in-the-stirrup situation, since I was flying behind the zebra. I guess I'm not really sure what they're seeing at all, but this is definitely not normal. Even in Vegas.

A bug flew into my eye. I screamed. The zebra came to a screeching halt and I crashed into its butt, narrowly avoiding a deadly kick. I tried to pick the remains of the bug out of my eye while also untangling my hand from the rope. It was rough. It didn't help that one of my shoes still had fluttering wings stubbornly sticking out, so that my foot was forced off the ground every couple of seconds. I felt unbalanced in a number of ways.

I also started to realize that it was suffocatingly hot.

Pounding footsteps approached me and I looked up. Percy and Annabeth had finally caught up with me. Their faces were red, and they were clearly out of breath, but it looked like they had been laughing. Whether it was because of me or because Eddie and Maurice had just been arrested, I wasn't sure. "Nice of you to finally catch up," I said, tugging on the lead rope, which was still hopelessly tangled. "I would much appreciate it, Percy, if you'd sweet-talk your horse into releasing me."

The zebra made a weird braying noise. "He's a zebra," Percy corrected me as Annabeth went to work on my trapped wrist, pulling me backwards as she rushed us yet further away from the scene of the crime.

"I would have never guessed," I deadpanned. Annabeth was pulling me quickly enough that I was almost tripping over my feet. It might not have been so bad if I could turn around, but since Annabeth was freeing me from my equid bonds, that wasn't really an option. "And I'm glad to know that Stripes here is so grateful."

The zebra brayed again. Percy told me that Stripes was delighted to be free, but I had a feeling that was the abridged translation.

"Done," Annabeth declared. My arm fell limply at my side.

"Thanks," I said, massaging my wrist and glaring at the zebra.

"Um, I hate to be a killjoy after we took care of those two shady truckers, but we just lost our ride," Percy said.

"Lucky thing we have some money leftover," I stated before anyone could suggest taking shelter for the night. "We can catch a cab."

"I don't know if we have enough money to get all the way to LA, though," Annabeth replied, pursing her lips. It actually brought a question to my mind. How much money did we have left?

"Now that you mention it, we can't take a cab anyways until we find somewhere to put this zebra." This had only just occurred to me. Why are we still carting him around, anyways?

"We can just leave him here. He'll be found by someone who can actually help eventually," Annabeth suggested.

"A zebra in Vegas," reckoned Percy. "He'll be a party animal."

It was corny, but we all laughed anyways. Neon pink light framed Percy's head, reflecting off his black hair like a halo. As I turned my head back to face front, it became suddenly blinding. We came to a halt and I blinked hard. When I opened my eyes, I saw a literal living nightmare.

In front of us was a dead end: a massive building, obviously a casino. It seemed oddly dead; other than the doorman, there was no one else there, and not a single person coming out. The entrance was framed by a large, grand flower made of neon pink sign lights that branched out into pointed petals and blinked rhythmically on and off. The building was fittingly dubbed the Lotus Hotel and Casino.

I gulped, and then did it again when I looked back at Annabeth, Percy, and the zebra only to find that the doorman was in our midst.

"Hey, kids. You look tired," he said with a friendly smile. He was deceptively approachable. I wondered who or what he was. I remembered the myth this came from, but I couldn't remember whether the Lotus Eaters in The Odyssey had actually been human or not. "You want to come in and sit down?"

Even if I hadn't already known what was going on, this immediately set warning bells off in my head. I couldn't understand why Annabeth and Percy so immediately looked complacent. Even if they were exhausted, that was no reason to be stupid. This whole situation was so obviously wrong. I mean, it was like they'd never heard the universally known mantra of overprotective adults. Don't take candy from strangers. That white van's not an ice cream truck. Don't help someone you don't know look for their lost puppy. There was nothing even mildly normal about this strange guy offering a group of bedraggled kids with a friendly wild animal companion a place to sit in the perfumed air conditioning of what appeared to be a seriously high dollar establishment.

Unfortunately, my partners in crime seemed to be suffering from sudden onset stupidity. They were even bringing the zebra in with them. I cringed and followed. I'd get us out before we ever touched one of those games or turned on the television. That way we wouldn't be trapped here for days, at least. Still, I knew what this place was, and it put me on edge.

Maybe you should just let this one go. You can play with the plot later.

It was tempting.

No.

I swallowed. Just outside, I could already note the flower smell getting a little strongly and the air pleasantly cooler. I stepped inside and felt amazing, though my skin itched with dryness after being out in the weather and in that dank excuse for animal transport for so long. I suddenly realized that I had a bad sunburn. Great, cancer.

"Wow," Percy muttered, and I looked around us. Sure enough, the game room was… well, impressive. And that's a massive understatement. The first thing that caught my eye were the literally dozens of TV screens throughout the room. I caught a glimpse of Call of Duty and Grand Theft Auto, but there were tons of games I didn't recognize, and forty floors more of them. In the center of the room, a white plastic water slide circled the elevator and came to a stop at an indoor pool. A faint shadow made its way down before a dark-haired boy wearing blue trunks landed in the pool with a splash, letting out a joyful whoop.

On one side of the room was a massive, complex climbing wall. If I hadn't been scared out of my skin, I would have been itching to have a crack at it. Underneath the wall was a hollowed out portion of the floor filled with colorful foam cubes. I'd seen those at a trampoline park before. They made for a nice landing, but getting out of foam pits was like swimming through cement. "Yeah, wow," I said, my voice soft and anxious. "Maybe we should -"

"Hey!" We all turned in the direction of the sound to see a guy who looked like a touristy beachgoer walking towards us, smiling all the while. Like the doorman, the bellhop was apparently a jolly guy. "Welcome to Lotus Casino. Here's your room key."

I blanched. First we're going in for the A/C, and now we're staying? Come on, guys! Tell me you don't know that escalated quickly.

Percy seemed a little doubtful, but I knew it was for all the wrong reasons. "Um, but…"

"No, no," said the bellhop, chuckling as if that mild resistance was the funniest thing he'd seen all day. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips." I wondered who'd taken care of the bill, but there was little doubt it my mind that Ares had arranged this little detour, and that was exactly why he'd given us that particular ride. Still, for any sane person, alarm bells would have been going off. Percy and Annabeth looked surprised, sure, but not unpleasantly. When had they gotten so stupid?

"Just go to the top floor, room 400I. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub," he continued, "or extra skeet for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk." The bellhop proceeded to pull three green plastic cards from the pocket of his shorts. He handed them out to each of us and then patted the zebra on the head. I noticed that Stripes was oddly mellowed out, but I had to wonder if it wasn't just because he was enjoying the rest. "Here are your LotusCash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides."

"How much is on there?" Percy asked.

More than enough that you and your mom could be living in a palace.

"What do you mean?" the bellhop asked, genuinely confused.

"I mean, when does it run out of cash?"

More laughter, friendly and jovial. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay."

Could he possibly be any more alarming? I finally gathered the wits to speak up. "Um, maybe we shouldn't. I mean, we've got this -"

The bellhop cut me off, misunderstanding my words, maybe on purpose. "Oh, that guy?" he said, motioning to the zebra. "Don't worry about it. Pets welcome! Allow me to escort him to our stables, where he'll be afforded the same care we give to all of our guests." He smiled, and I frowned. What was that care? Eternal life in luxury? That didn't seem a half-bad fate for Stripes, or anyone. Our team just didn't have time for it.

I was about to nod when the zebra made another noise and then Percy said, "He's game. Come on, guys. Let's go."

The bellhop wished us well and wandered off with the zebra, leaving me behind with Percy and Annabeth. I trudged behind them to the elevators and glanced around for cameras. There didn't seem to be any. "Guys, this is a bad idea. We don't have time for this."

"It's just for the night," Annabeth said. "We'll get some rest and figure out what to do next. Besides, we have six days left."

That Annabeth would say that was a telltale sign that something was up. I mean, Annabeth had wanted a quest more than anything. Now she had one, and she was going to slack off? We hadn't laid a finger on any of the attractions. I recalled all the complacency and empty mindedness.

Annabeth and Percy had been affected before we'd even stepped into the building. So why hadn't I?

"We shouldn't be so callous about it," I urged. "Maybe we need six days."

"Come on, Amara," Percy whined as the elevator stopped and we stepped out. "If our room is as sweet as the rest of this place, we'll be so rested when we wake up that we won't even need one day."

You have no idea, you little idiot. "This whole situation is so obviously wrong that I'm surprised you haven't told us to turn and run, Annabeth. Just think about everything that's just happened. This is too weird to be true."

"Too good to be true," corrected Annabeth as Percy opened the door to our room.

"Why would that bellhop just assume we were guests? We look like garbage, not like we should be staying in a place like this," I protested.

Percy seemed to think I was being silly. "So, there was a case of mistaken identity. Do you want to leave all of this behind for the sake of integrity?" he asked, gesturing grandly at our room.

I took it in. It was more like a freaking house. We had a kitchenette that was closer to being a full kitchen closed off from the central room, and I could see three open doors leading to luxurious bedrooms, each outfitted with king-size water mattresses. The central room was beautifully furnished, and we had a massive balcony outfitted with a skeet-shooting machine that I could see and presumably a rifle that I couldn't. There was a massive television in front of a sofa, and I was guessing we all had TVs in our rooms, too. A computer sat at a desk with a set of headphones. The screen was loaded to a hunting game that I used to play with my cousins when my Grandma's computer worked a million years ago. "Yes."

But Percy wasn't listening, and neither was Annabeth. They were too busy digging around the suite. I grunted in frustration and stomped into one of the bedrooms. If they were going to waste time being stupid, I'd just get them out of here after taking a shower.Being in that trailer had made me feel filthy… and look filthy. I threw my stuff down on the water bed and rushed over to the closet. When I opened it up, it was full of clothes in my size that fit my current sloppy, dress-for-comfort style. I grabbed a pair of baggy, grey-blue cotton pants and a grey shirt emblazoned with a derogatory comment about Mondays. Creepily enough, there were bras and underwear in my size, too, so I grabbed some of those and ran for the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, I was out of an admittedly long, hot shower.

Percy and Annabeth were out of the room.

Fuck it.

 **TEMPORARY PLACEHOLDER UNTIL I CAN COME BACK AND INSERT A LINE BREAK SINCE THE APP APPARENTLY DOESN'T HAVE IT (:**

 _ **So! Guess** who's back!_

 _I feel pretty bad about the long delay, especially since I just realized I've had this chapter written for over a year. I had totally forgotten about it and I thought the chapter I was stuck on before my break was the one I needed to upload. But here this is, and I hope you enjoy it!_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

In case you were wondering, I'm really good at making bad decisions. And when I noticed that they were gone, I was a gnat's hair away from doing something really, really dumb.

At first, everything just kind over rolled over my brain in waves of shock and anger. They hadn't listened. And not only that, but I'd tried to interfere just minutes too late to actually be helpful. Maybe if I'd been a little more vocal, I could have snapped them out of it while they were speaking with the doorman. But _no._ I got cocky. And I'd made myself sure that I'd be able to talk them out of anything before they started playing the games. Now that they'd headed off to the playground, though, I knew I'd missed my shot. It would literally take divine interference to get them to leave.

I grunted in frustration and stomped back into my room, flopping lazily on the waterbed. It made an odd noise when I landed and the movement underneath me was kind of odd. If I had to wait five days to leave, I wasn't sure I'd be able to sleep on it. It felt too foreign, as did everything else. This whole hotel room was making me feel like a total plebe. And the whole situation was making me feel like a total idiot.

I hadn't planned for this. In fact, my thoughts about the casino had always been very scattered. I hadn't thought about it enough at all.

I toyed with the idea that it would be possible to track Percy and Annabeth down and drag them out the door by their ears, but there were several problems with that. First of all, I had no idea where Percy was. Second, I knew that - _eventually,_ maybe only five days from now - Annabeth was playing some kind of architecture sim, but I doubted that I was strong enough to drag her away from much of anything without getting pummeled into the ground. Besides that, I wasn't sure how time passed here. What if a day had passed outside already? And, finally, I had no clue why I wasn't being drawn into everything like Percy and Annabeth were. Maybe it was because I already knew what the place was, but that seemed like some kind of cop-out, like the answer was too easy. What if I headed to the games only to find that I really did want to be here, stay here, and play here?

Five days and my resolution not to be a useless lug down the drain. And I felt like Hades would have my head.

It felt as though I had a pebble stuck in my throat. Once again, I felt genuinely afraid. It seemed quite certain to me that it was impossible for anyone who had met Hades _not_ to feel genuinely afraid.

Then I remembered Percy in the first book. He'd acted so bold and unintimidated that, for a moment, I felt ashamed. I quickly reminded myself that he was also remarkably brash, which wasn't always a good thing. Not that it was making me feel any better.

 _Back to the point. I could go and get them. Or I could stay here with them._ That idea, too, had more than a few flaws. For one thing, it relied heavily upon nothing changing. Chances were that nothing would, but I wasn't sure I wanted to take that chance. Besides that, what if they decided to leave me behind? What if I got sucked into all these games and, when the time came, they put their heads together and decided I wasn't so important anymore? I could try to keep track of time, again came the issue of how time worked here. Did it really fly by?

Of course, there was plenty to do here, and not just games. I was sure this place had a library and wifi. I could do some research and planning.

I could also leave. _But what am I going to do with five whole days?_ I wasn't going to do battle with Ares. No way. And going to the Underworld without Hades' stupid helm or the bolt seemed like a suicide mission. And I didn't know what else I could possibly have to do that would take five days. _Besides, let's say I do complete the quest before the five days is up. Poseidon didn't get Percy out of here until he was urgently needed, a day before the deadline. If I complete the quest before then…_

He wouldn't wake Percy. And why would he? Percy was less likely to be incinerated by Zeus in here, and he was also less likely to enact the Great Prophecy. And Annabeth? Pffft. Collateral damage. To my mind, it sounded cold, but realistic. The gods were selfish. So was I, and if put in their shoes, I would do it. Better to let a couple of teenagers waste away in a practical paradise than to risk the fate of myself and the entire West as we knew it. In fact, I would be surprised if the reason it took Poseidon so long to pull Percy from the casino was because he was seeking another hero to finish this quest and appease Zeus so Percy could stay safely here forever.

Or at least until the next apocalypse.

 _Well, no way am I leaving now. At this early..._

I sighed and rolled over. The movement of the water bed made me highly uncomfortable. It wasn't… _sloshing,_ or anything like that, but it was definitely strange. I remembered going to my great aunt's house in the south one Christmas. I'd played with some of my second cousins and looked around in awe at the massive house (maybe it even counted as a mansion), and they'd seized the chance to impress me. They'd informed me that my great aunt also had a waterbed, which had rendered me even more shocked than before. I imagined a large plastic sac filled with water and little goldfish, and I'd wanted to see it very badly. Unfortunately, we'd started opening presents before I got the chance. Given my current experiences, it hadn't been a big loss.

So what were my options? I briefly examined staying, but the very idea made me feel like a liar. I'd decided to change things. I'd decided that I wasn't going to be some static, dull character. It was time to act, and right now, I had five days of time to make changes. Not "Percy can't get rid of Gabe" changes. Good changes. I was determined.

 _Okay. Okay. Focus._

 _Option one: stay. Be compliant with Ares's toying and let things go as they will. Risk changes happening, ultimately resulting in my death, not to mention World War III. So… that would be a temporary illusion of safety. Maybe not option one._

 _Option two: go. Go when? Now? I have five days. I know who has what, and where everything is. What happens if everything happens early? What happens if I'm involved too much? I don't want all of Olympus to have eyes on me. But that might be unavoidable._

 _If I did go, I have a task list. Obviously I need to track down the helm?_ I frowned. Hades hadn't exactly made everything crystal. I knew he wanted his helm back because it was in the books. But Hades hadn't said that he wanted to have his helm back. He'd said that he wanted me to tend to _things_. Plural. Not just the helm.

So what other _things_ could Hades want? He didn't want war, so even if I brought him the bolt, he wouldn't keep it. He'd return it to his brother, or have it returned in some roundabout way. And in that case, Zeus would still be angry. He wanted an apology. So I doubted Hades wanted the bolt.

 _So what on earth are the other "things"?_

I sighed. I wasn't really tired anymore. I just felt anxious. My path was unclear. I had the sense that I could die soon, but I felt unafraid, like the realization wasn't a serious one. Like that weight hadn't yet settled around my shoulders. On the other hand, the realization that I genuinely had no idea what to do made me want to scream. I had already decided, in the back of my mind, that I had to go, but there was no way I could go to Hades with some of my delegated work incomplete. He would probably fry me then and there. Or have his deathly guards skewer me with their bayonets or something.

The other _things_ had to be in my head somewhere. I'd read those books a million times. I knew them like the back of my hand. But in the first book, Hades hadn't really _asked_ for anything. He'd responded to a threat in kind. _Protecting his own._

I stood up. I needed to at least try to track down Percy and Annabeth. I'd make a half-hearted effort, at least. Actually, though, I wanted them with me. I was afraid. The only reason I wasn't panicking was because I didn't want to admit to myself that progressing into an active individual in the story freaked me out. Having two people to back, and two people backing me, would have made me feel better. Not to mention that I'd grown used to their company. I had sworn to myself that there would be no friendships, but there was a kind of relationship there.

At first, I was just going to go with nothing. I would grab Percy and Annabeth, bring them back to the room to gather our stuff, and then go. Fortunately, instinct told me this wasn't a good idea. While Percy's bag from Ares followed him wherever we went, nothing else had that particular superpower, particularly not my bag. I grabbed my casino card and stuffed it into my pocket. Then I went through all of our rooms and grabbed a complete outfit for each of us. My bag was stuffed, but I figured we could transfer some of it to Percy's later. Then, being the quick and intelligent thinker I was, I also managed to cram in three (FIJI!) bottled waters from the mini fridge. It was empty of food, but I'd never felt more hungry in my life.

I left Percy's bag, the one with the bolt, where it was in the trash. It would pop up in the seat of the cab or something, I was sure. Like the jar. It existed to tempt.

Opening the door to our suite was intimidating. Whatever safety and security it offered was gone as soon as I heard the sound of video games. Even the sound of happy kids crying out, maybe as they slid down the waterslide, didn't seem like such a great sound. I was averse to it, actually. I wished all these happy fools would suddenly start, crying out in panic, and rush out into the streets of Vegas. It was safe here, sure. But the evil of the Lotus Eaters lay in that these people were stolen from their families and friends. People were grieving, and no one here knew any better.

I wondered how many people here were demigods.

Then, I realized that I'd been dragging my feet the whole way out of the hall. I decided to pick up the pace.

The first thing I saw when I stepped into the game room wasn't Percy, or anyone dressed too outlandishly. In fact, most people seemed to be dressed pretty normally. It made sense. Plenty of people probably wandered in here, if it was planted right in the middle of Vegas. And, from the looks of it, many of them never walked away.

I passed by a girl playing that game with the suitcases. I hadn't seen that game since Chuck E. Cheese's. She was hyper focused, but I can't say I cared. "Have you seen—"

"No, I'm sorry, I'm playing… just let me finish and I'll talk…" She leaned closer to the screen.

 _You won't._ I walked away from her. I looked at her skinny jeans and Lady Gaga tee and I wanted to say, "Your parents are probably looking for you." But I somehow felt that making a scene would be a bad idea, even when dealing with the oh-so-hospitable Lotus Eaters.

I turned away from her and kept walking. There wasn't really any direction. I didn't know where I was going, or where Percy and Annabeth might be. I had an idea that they might be on the same floor, since it had basically taken Percy a page to find both his partners in crime, but there were so many floors that didn't narrow it down at all.

All I could do was keep walking, and keep paying attention.

The more I walked, the more weird things I saw. Did you ever play the Wii version of Life? I did, growing up. I liked the idea of living well, and kicking ass at the stupid little minigame. I liked seeing how ugly my Mii's husband was, and then bragging to my siblings that "my" spouse was more attractive than "theirs". At one point when I was walking, I saw an open space. There was a Wii. The screen showed the game of Life, set up and ready, with my Mii staring down at me. Ready to play. I didn't even feel a little tempted.

Actually, I decided it was kind of creepy. I finally broke eye contact with the Mii when another kid walked up and it changed into theirs.

I could sympathize with the sense of enchantment, but only a little.

"If I were an idiot, where would I be?" I wondered aloud, glancing from place to place, as if that would help me at all. I set eyes on the waterslide. "If I were a son of Poseidon, where would I be?"

 _I dunno, maybe the water._

I couldn't remember a single mention of Percy being in the water or on the waterslide, but that whole few days had passed in just a couple of pages. Would he even remember, though? If the days passed in such a mindless blur, maybe he was there without even realizing.

Or maybe not. There was some doubt there. Maybe it had to do with the number of stairs I'd have to climb to get to the top of that waterslide to avoid the oddly talkative crowds in the elevator. But I did.

The top floor was a little quieter. There were changing rooms. I wondered if I would find a suit in my size and style if I stepped into a cubicle. Probably. I frowned at the thought and walked toward the line going into the waterslide. There was no adult to tell everyone when to go down, but aside from a couple of impatient children, it seemed pretty orderly. About every thirty seconds, the line would grow a little shorter.

I glanced up the line. Percy didn't seem to be there, and neither did Annabeth. It was kind of weird; this seemed a prime spot for Percy to be. But obviously it wasn't the case, at least not right now. I glanced back at the changing rooms; three were filled, but under the door I could make out three sets of very feminine ankles. Not Percy.

 _These people have been here longer than I have. They'd have seen him._ I stepped up towards the front of the line, almost hesitantly approaching the two kids at the front. The glanced up when I made an involuntary noise, standing awkwardly back on my heels. "Uh… have you seen a boy?"

The girl, a little older than me, didn't let me finish. She crossed her arms and smirked. "A lot, yeah."

The boy snorted and nodded in agreement.

"About my age?" I said cooly. "A little beaten up and tired-looking. Black hair, sea-green eyes?"

"Geez, I dunno, man," the boy said. "There's a lot of people here."

I blinked. Fair enough. "Yes. Um, anyone else?"

There was some murmured assent but some people began to grumble with their discontent. "Can we go now?"

I gave the speaker my patented bitch face. "You have an eternity to go down the waterslide."

"Maybe he's, like, at the bottom," the girl at the front said, snapping me back to attention.

The boy agreed. "I'd check there first. Maybe you missed him."

He nudged me towards the mouth of the slide and I frowned in discomfort, realizing his intentions a second too late. "I will, but…"

The girl laughed. "It's fun, trust me! You'll keep coming back."

My heart seized a little, and I renewed my struggle to escape before her hands started pushing me into the slide too. What if playing the game was what sucked me in? I was pushed in backwards, but my fingers gripped the edge to hold myself up. My butt and pants were soaking, and I was kind of folded in half. "Come on, guys, I'm wearing all my clothes!" I protested desperately, like they might have a change of heart and help me out.

But the boy just laughed, and the girl said, "It'll be fun," a second time before loosening my grip. Just before I began to slide down head first, I thought I heard the annoying impatient kid say, "Is it finally my turn now?"

Within a second, I had water up my nose and mouth. I was kind of scared that I was going to break my neck. But I'll admit it: it was kind of fun.

Don't look at me like that.

Of course, it was a little less fun when I and my bag full of clean clothes, notebooks, and supplies took a dip into the pool below. The water was luxuriously warm. A lot of people enjoy this, but I've always thought part of the fun of a pool is the coolness in comparison to the air. Still, warm water or not, I was soaked and chances were that my stuff was too. So when I shot out of the slide into about four feet of water, head under foot, my bag still on my back, I let out a mouthful of air and thought, _Percy better be down here, dammit._

I surfaced, feeling hopeless and held in suspense at the same time. I blinked a few times, trying to clear the blur. Someone in the direction of the slide screamed, and I scooted out of the way of the slide at the realization that somebody was probably on their way down. It was noisy here at the lower level; there were tons of people. Percy was nowhere to be found.

It was a terribly annoying thing, honestly.

I stepped out of the pool. Water came off me in a loud, steady flow. I could hear it literally pouring out of my bookbag. I thought about our fresh, clean clothes and gritted my teeth.

Someone was laughing at me.

It sounded like a little kid. You know, it had that clear quality, the high pitch, and the signature lightness. It was genuine and innocent in that way only children are. I gritted my teeth. Some brat was about to get a talking-to. Maybe it was funny, but definitely not to me. So I turned my head to the source of the noise and met eyes with a little boy, about nine or ten years old.

"You went down the slide in all your clothes?" he exclaimed, his dark eyes shining with something half between amusement and awe. He'd recently been down the slide or in the pool, too; he wore swim trunks, his pale chest was bare, and his black hair was closely matted to his head.

My mouth suddenly felt a little dry. "I…"

A girl walked up behind him. Her hair was lighter than his, but their features were similar. She was maybe my age, or Percy's. She, too, looked mildly amused, but she said, "Nico," and placed a gentle, warning hand on the boy's shoulder.

I swallowed. Of course it was them.

"But… it's really funny!" the little boy protested, staring up at his big sister.

"It doesn't look like she thinks so," his sister pointed out gently. I stared at her. A year and a half from now, this girl was dead. She turned to me. "I'm sorry about that. Are you okay?"

"I am," I said numbly. "And it's… it's fine."

 _Make it a priority to see to those things as well, Easterling._

Suddenly I remembered Hades's words with startling clarity.

 _There is much more at stake here than just the master bolt._

Hades resented his brothers. Whether or not he wanted to argue that he had the greatest power and potential, he was still outcast from the others. Banned from Olympus except under special circumstances. Not honored by most half-bloods. Accused of wrong when he was just trying to mind his own business.

And he was the only brother who'd kept his vow. His children were threatened. And now, Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, was going to be another way that his brothers would have one over him. Percy, a violation of the vow between the Big Three, disrespect incarnate, seemed to be the one who would fulfill the Great Prophecy. Hades's fate would hinge on his brother's son.

Of course he didn't want that.

"I was looking for someone," I said. "I decided to take the quick way down."

Bianca laughed now. She had a lovely voice. "Right. Well, who are you looking for?"

 _I'm looking for Percy._

But I didn't say so. And that was because I knew now that they were the other things. Hades wanted them dragged into the game early. They were human. Innocent kids. And as a plan began hatching and my blood grew cold towards the di Angelos, they became my leverage.

"A couple of other kids," I said, making a deliberate effort to look hassled. "Their dad said they would be here, but I haven't been able to find them yet."

"I don't know a lot of people here, but maybe I can help you," Bianca suggested, though I knew she was probably only personally aware of Nico and herself.

"Um, a brother and a sister. The di Angelos, I think."

Nico, who was cuter than I could have possibly imagined, immediately threw caution to the wind. "Hey, that's us!" He sounded equal parts excited and disappointed. He'd probably been having a lot of fun here, after all.

Even Bianca looked less skeptical than I'd imagined. That said, they were from a whole different era. Still, she raised an eyebrow. "Our father?"

They probably couldn't even remember their father's face. "Yeah," I agreed. "He finally sorted out all that legal garbage. He's set up in Hollywood now."

"That's so cool!" Nico crowed. In any other environment, he would have caused heads to turn. Not here, not now.

"Wow, really?" Bianca said, her face softening a little. "I feel like we haven't heard from him in… ages."

 _That's one way of putting it._ "He's been quite busy. But I know he was sure you guys would be comfortable here."

"It's crazy here!" Nico told me. "There are all these games and they add new ones every day. My favorite is—"

"We can talk about Mythomagic later, Nico," Bianca said gently, then turned back to me. "So… no offense, but why did he send you? You look my age."

"I'm older than I look," I said honestly. "I guess he thought you would be more comfortable travelling with another teenager than with his creepy old lawyer."

"The one that brought us here?" she asked, her nose wrinkling a little.

I nodded. "Exactly. I'm working for him a little this summer. I'm only legally allowed to work about fifteen hours a week, but the money's worth it. And obviously I get to travel a little." I paused. "The drive to L.A. is nice. You guys'll enjoy it."

"I can't remember the way here," Nico announced.

"That's not unusual," I said reassuringly. "It's been… a good while."

"I'd forgotten how long," Bianca said, her eyes almost glossy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"Yeah, trust me," I said, beaming. "We run to your room to get all your stuff together, we catch a cab. We'll be there in no time."

Bianca chewed her lip. I wondered if part of the reason she wasn't protesting more wasn't exactly the reason she hadn't noticed she'd been there for sixty years. The Lotus made people somehow susceptible. Except me, apparently. _Is this my superpower at work?_

"Are you sure this is okay?" she asked.

"Definitely," I assured her.

"Can I take all my Mythomagic stuff?" Nico asked. "Do we have to go?"

Biana paused. "Do we… have any stuff to bring?"

"My Mythomagic stuff!" Nico supplied, ever persistent.

Bianca ignored him. "We could bring some clothes."

"And Mr. di Angelo's Mythomagic stuff," I added with an absent smile, cutting her little brother off. "We should get out of here soon, though."

"Right," Bianca said, gesturing for us to follow her as she headed to the elevator. I thanked the gods that she was born so long ago, when it wasn't weird for kids to run about a little more than we could now, and where trust wasn't so carefully withheld. I even thanked them that her memory was wiped and that whatever baggage she might have had to make her less naive and… well, stupid. I could have been a monster, for all she knew. Maybe, at that moment, I was one. But I followed her to their room, and waited patiently while the two of them changed and gathered up what few possessions were worth dragging along.

In the moment, I couldn't believe myself. Why had I just stopped looking for Percy and Annabeth? Why had I decided I was going to handle this part of it all on my own? Why had I apparently decided to just leave them, the way they'd done to me when they went to the waterpark? Was I right? What if I wasn't?

What was my game plan? I had a vague idea, but I didn't have it pinned down. All I knew was that I wanted to be back here in a matter of days. I wanted to do what I had to do, and I wanted Percy and Annabeth to be none the wiser. I wanted a moment to patch up all my small mistakes… maybe by making an even bigger one. This was my shot. No way would I blow it.

I could hear the squelching of wet feet moving on the bathroom floor. Neither of them had left yet, so I assumed they were still tidying up. It struck me as weird that they'd gone into the bathroom together, and that their setup, a single room with two queens, was different from ours. But from what I could recall from the books, Nico and Bianca had been so close that Bianca had felt like she needed to turn to a wierd (honorable?) feminist cult just for a breath of fresh air.

So maybe it wasn't that weird after all.

Still, I took the opportunity to look around. Somehow, I could tell that they hadn't spent much of the last sixty years in this room. It wasn't decorated. They had things here, but they had been haphazardly dumped here and there, not tended to or even gathered up. The beds were neatly made, but when I looked, I noticed what looked like a fine layer of dust on the sheets and pillows. It looked like the beds had been made last month, but definitely not this morning. When I turned on the flatscreen, a bunch of settings and preferences came up; clearly they hadn't used it since it was installed.

It wasn't strange, really. This wasn't the kind of hotel where you spent a bunch of time in your room, and the di Angelos weren't trying to make a home there. They thought this was temporary. Still, it made me a little sad. Especially since I was about to deliver them to their father to be used as pawns, stuck under the thumb of the Lord of the Underworld.

I didn't feel bad enough, though. Something in me was over it. I was so angry with everything that I rebelled against myself, my own sense of empathy. In that moment, it meant dancing Hades's jig, and delivering the di Angelos to probable misery.

Was this the right decision?

In a way, it was selfless. In the end, if all worked out, it would benefit someone else. But that was a stretch. I was doing this for myself. This choice would give any monsters some extra chances (a couple years worth) to kill off the di Angelos, for one thing. But I was going to take advantage of their naivety and do it anyways. I couldn't bring myself to regret it, and even now, it's hard to think of doing anything else.

Was this the right decision?

Maybe.

By the time the di Angelos made it out of the bathroom, I had already gathered up Nico's mythomagic stuff. I swore to myself that I would get a Hades figure for him soon. That way, Bianca wouldn't have to. Someone else would have to fill the role she was supposed to next winter, if the prophecy stayed the same.

"Um… we're ready to go." Bianca had come out wearing a nice looking denim jacket with a lace cutout in the back, a cream blouse tucked into olive cargo pants, and a matching olive beret. It was a balance of cute and edgy stylish. I wondered if she'd noticed at any point how the trends had changed. Surely it wasn't normal for girls to wear pants in the forties?

Nico had dressed a little less like a model from an online shop and a more like a boy in the sweltering southwest in the summer. His t-shirt read _Little Monster_ and he was wearing what looked like khaki "Sunday best" shorts. Dressed to the nines to meet his father, I guess.

I paused. What was their father going to do, anyways? _It's against the Ancient Laws to keep them down there too long… he'll have to send them to camp. It's bad timing. Zeus is already pissed and now he'll realize he had two demigod children of Hades that he already attempted to kill under his nose this whole time._

I put on my best person suit and smiled. "You guys look great. Here's your game stuff."

Nico snatched up the bag full of figures. I wondered why the hotel had provided the bag. Wasn't the point of the Lotus Eaters to make people stay? Then again, it was Hades that had set these two up, and he apparently didn't want them here anymore.

"How are we going to get there?" Bianca asked.

"We're in the middle of Vegas," I said. "We'll be able to take a cab."

And since I knew exactly where we were going, we could skip Crusty and go straight to Hell. Thank goodness.

"Okay," Bianca agreed. She was still very accepting, but I could detect a little bit of doubt. I wondered just how questioning she would be once we were out of the Lotus. Moreso? Hopefully not.

"What's our dad like?" Nico quizzed me as we left the room. I kept walking, but the question gave me pause. It was definitely something I'd have to think about.

Still, I had to say something. "You could say he runs a very successful, rapidly expanding empire. He's got oodles of money and a lot of influence."

"That's kind of intimidating," noted Bianca.

"Yeah," I said. We were making our way through the game room. I was keeping my eyes peeled, but I couldn't see Percy or Annabeth anywhere. I felt like I was abandoning them… but I had every intention to come back.

"Yeah." I licked my lips. We passed the bellhop; oddly enough, he just watched us instead of trying to convince us not to leave. "You could say that, too."

* * *

 _So, I'm thinking of this chapter as a kind of "good faith" update. Evidence that I am still writing. I just finished the next chapter, too; expect it soon._

 _Let me know what you think._


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

The instant I opened the door to step outside, I regretted it.

The air was despicably hot and dry, and it hit me in the face like a bag of bricks. I felt myself begin sweating immediately. Even though I hadn't been hooked on the casino in the first place, I found myself itching to go back inside. But I stepped out anyways, holding the door open and not missing the others' despondent glance back into the game room. I ushered them away from the entrance. And, feeling that my meager people skills were being stretched beyond their fullest extent, I gave some very strained comfort. "I know it's probably hard to leave that behind, but I promise you won't be bored where we're headed. Your dad keeps a very interesting household."

"Have you been in his house before?" Nico asked in awe.

I didn't answer the question directly, but I did say, "Your dad works from home."

"Cool! So we'll see him a lot?"

I was staring into the street, looking for a cab to hail. I wasn't in the expert class like Percy in that regard, but I could certainly draw one over and, thanks to the handy little cash card in my pocket, I had plenty of money to get us to L.A. I was trying to concentrate, but here Nico was, asking more of the hard questions.

"You'll see more of your dad than a lot of other kids do." I was, of course, referring solely to demigods. And orphans.

Bianca had been pretty quiet. I glanced up and down the street for a cab once more and gave a huge wave at one passing by. Then I turned back to her. She wasn't quite gaping, but she definitely seemed confused by everything in front of her: scantily clad women walking the streets, new cars (and even "old" ones, which were technically younger than her), shopfronts, several different songs blasting at the same time, and an Elvis impersonator across the street from us.

I didn't ask her if she was okay, but I did raise my eyebrows at her, like I wasn't sure what had her so freaked. I could hear the cab pulling to the curb, and I gestured them to follow as I opened the door. Nico slid right into the back seat. Bianca hesitated a little more and then crept in almost fearfully. Feeling suddenly much more secure, I followed suit and slammed the door.

"It's changed so much," I heard her mutter.

"DOA Studios, Los Angeles," I told the driver confidently, buckling in my seatbelt and crossing my legs. _Maybe I should have used the bathroom before we left._

I saw the driver raise his greasy eyebrows in the rearview. "That's a long way. Sure you can afford that, Missy?"

I wordlessly passed him the card from my pocket.

"Yeah. Think you can get us there fast, Mister?" I wasn't sure if I could bear to be as generous as Annabeth, but I saw no reason to be a lousy tipper.

"How fast are you talkin', Missy?" he said after making a surprised noise and handing back the card. He looked rattled, and I couldn't fault him for it.

"Don't get us pulled over," I answered carelessly as he pulled out of park and began to drive.

"Is that your name? Missy?" Bianca asked, having apparently zoned back in from staring out of the window over Nico's shoulder.

My eyes widened in surprise. _I didn't even introduce myself? Geez, that's shady._ "Oh, wow! Um, my name's Easterling. Amara Easterling. I'm sorry; I was so concerned about tracking the two of you down that I must have been distracted."

Bianca believed me, I guess. She looked out the window some more, worrying her lips with very white teeth.

"How long have you worked for Dad?" Nico asked, swinging his legs and kicking the driver's seat. I guess the driver was too impressed by my cash card to comment, but Bianca put a gentle hand on his leg.

"Not very long," I answered, glancing through the window at all the traffic falling behind us. We definitely weren't booking it at ninety, but this wasn't a slow ride either. "It's a new setup." I was such a liar. But it was necessary in the moment. I didn't like the idea of carting around two half-blood children of Hades who _knew_ they were two half-blood children of Hades. It would be like travelling with two Percys. One was enough. None was enough, actually.

Which meant that the fewer questions they asked, the better. I knew several strategies that were meant to discourage conversation (for instance, subtly holding one's breath while the other person is talking). But these tactics are meant to make someone lose interest and walk away. In that instance, all I wanted was to redirect the conversation. So I said, "I know he was hoping the two of you would be very comfortable in the casino. How was it?"

At this, even Bianca brightened, and she and Nico both conceded that they'd a remarkable time. Then Nico started babbling about that Mythomagic game. I tried to listen even though I didn't care. Like, at all. Maybe it was because I knew the kid directly to my left was going to die because of one of the game figures unless I could figure out how to worm her out of trouble.

Given that the prophecy in the third book singled her out as one who would die in the land without rain, it seemed unlikely.

At first I was unconsciously zoning him out. He wasn't asking for a response or anything, and Bianca was engaging. So every once in a while, I would mind him, and he'd say something like:

"And they have all these crazy cool attacks and defenses and stuff! So you have to track their HP…"

"... attacked by wolves, that can do almost four hundred damage, depending on the number of power-ups!"

"Use Melinoe and your opponent loses a turn, 'cause they're scared of ghosts! Except the ones in the Underworld and the…"

"—cate has this really powerful one where she can summon this weird green fire—it's, like, melty! And…"

"Sometimes the really powerful ones can be really hard to find, even in the game room. I still don't have Hades, but I have like three of Janus…"

Forgive me if I was a little at my wits end with it. Eventually I started zoning him out on purpose, instead opting to watch the speedometer when we got on the interstate. It was only _then_ that we hit ninety. It kind of freaked me out. What would be more pathetic than me, a normie forced through interdimensional soul travel into the body of a demigod in a fictional world, dying in a car accident? The idea was almost amusing considering that I had plans to visit the Underworld in only a couple of hours.

"You'll be surprised at how a game like that'll come in handy," I muttered without thinking, almost forgetting that there were even others with me.

Bianca broke the spell. She already had her doubts. And these last two hours of silence from me must have weirded her out. She squirmed in her seat, pretting me uncomfortably to the door. "What?"

I thought about giving her some crap about how the information could be used in a history class one day. I thought about saying that it was a great way to make connections and friends with the same interests. I even thought about saying that Mythomagic had been invented by their father. But I hadn't told them a lie about their father yet, and for some reason I couldn't make myself start, especially since I'd retreated into full introvert mode. So I did possibly the worst thing and said, "You'll find out."

"What does that mean? How could his dumb game ever come in handy?" she demanded. There it is. It was that discomfort I'd been waiting for. The sense of unease. The distrust. All the well-placed paranoia that meant Bianca would stand a chance of survival at this stage in the game. The forties good girl listening to Daddy's every order wasn't going to work. Not that it was a convenient thing right then.

"I said you'd find out, didn't I?" I said coolly, meeting her eyes. "You're right, Bianca. Mythomagic is just a game. Mythomagic is nothing to be worried about."

Nico was quiet, missing the nuances but seeing the argument about to arise. We'd kind of sucked the joy out of talking about his game, at least for now.

"Then what should I be worried about?" she asked. "The fact that I… oh, God. I just left the casino with some girl my age that I don't even know…"

"Who _do_ you know?" I asked her, hoping to distract from myself at least a little.

She looked up. Bianca was afraid now. I hoped she wouldn't ask to stop the cab out here in the middle of nowhere. "What?"

"Who do you know, Bianca? Who in the world would your recognize on sight right now?" I pressed, leaning towards her a little.

"You expect me to name everyone I know personally?" She looked almost offended.

"Bianca, what's happening?" Poor Nico. He looked almost confused.

"I know… well, Nico. And… the bellhop and the doorman. And…" She was so deep in thought. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, and she nibbled her lip. Her nose wrinkled cutely, and she met my eyes. Almost as quickly, the contact was gone. The longer she thought, the more freaked out she became. I wondered what that fear was like. Not knowing who you were or where you'd come from. Not knowing anything about… anything. "I know…"

"The lawyer?" I suggested.

"Yes, the lawyer… and, um…"

"What are you talking about?" Nico asked, sounding as if he'd leeched off some of his sister's alarm and taken it upon himself.

I wasn't going to patronize him. "Your sister thinks it was unwise of her to trust me to take you to your father, since you don't know me. So who do you know."

"We know loads of people," Nico said confidently.

"Oh?" I asked, leaning comfortably back in my chair.

"Yeah," he said, and began to sound less confident with each word. "We know each other and that lawyer and the staff from the hotel, and I know the guys I played Mythomagic with, and then there's, um…" He faltered, stuck exactly were his sister was.

Someone honked their horn at us a good few times. We must have really sped up. Good. "Teachers? People at school?" I suggested, looking at each of them in turn.

Bianca, already troubled, just shook her head.

"I don't know," said Nico. His voice was quiet; he was really thinking it over.

"What about… neighbors?"

"I don't know," said Nico again, trembling.

 _I'm spoiling everything_ , I thought. _If they figure this out we're all in danger._

But I kept going.

"Any shops you used to go to? Servants or employees?"

"I don't know!"

"Come on. Anyone, guys. Aunts, uncles, cousins."

"I can't—I don't…"

"Parents?"

There was a moment of silence. A weird kind of snuffling noise came from Bianca. "I don't remember. I don't remember anything."

At that, I said nothing. I didn't need to say anything. My point was already made. Bianca di Angelo didn't really _know_ anyone except her brother and vice versa. Even that relationship was more shallow than it had been in book three; the casino had been doing all the parenting for them at this point. The world was full of strangers to them. And if they could trust unknown lawyers and distant acquaintances like the doorman at the casino, why not trust me, a peer who claimed to know their father?

It wasn't fantastic logic by any means, but the di Angelos were both emotionally vulnerable. It didn't need to be perfect.

"I'm scared," sniffled Nico.

In the life that had taken away from me, that would have been the end of it. If my little brother, Elijah, had looked at me, lost, and voiced his fear, tears in his eyes and with a quavering voice, that would have been it. The problem would be swiftly vanquished and forgotten. But the River Lethe had stolen some of the di Angelo's closeness, and Bianca was much younger than I. Not to mention that old me faced problems that were mediocre to some of the smallest issues on any demigod's plate, much less this one.

So when Bianca wasn't able to address her brother, I couldn't make myself judge her too intensely.

"If you want to put the pieces together as well as possible, it's a good idea to stay with me for now," I told them firmly. I wasn't going to tell Nico he had no reason to be scared. His sister I was not, and anyways, that would be a lie. I was scared, and I'd been putting up with this for months now.

"What do you mean? You can help us, really?" Perhaps out of desperation, the younger girl no longer sounded so skeptical. _Good for me_.

"I can explain some things. Just not right now. It would be… ill-advised," I said.

"If not now, when?" she asked, frustrated, glaring daggers at me. Her faces was bare of tear tracks, but her eyes were wet. I felt mostly unmoved.

"It won't be long. Less than thirty minutes, I'd say," I told her at the sight of a road sign alerting us that our exit was just a few minutes away.

So when would I explain? And what would I explain? _Should I wait until we're right inside the lobby? Bad idea. Out in the street is just as bad. And this cab driver is already ignoring us for a tip._ I knew that I was already pushing it, given that I was basically vaguely threatening a couple of kids, and we were pretty young to be going cross country. He'd probably run straight to the cops after dropping us off.

Demigods? That would give him quite the story to tell. And judging by the way his eyes kept darting to the rearview, he was still waiting for something really edgy.

"That's not good enough," Bianca snapped, back straight against the seat. "You could be lying about everything. You're my age. Why would our father send you to get us?"

Nico fiddled with one of his Mythomagic figures, a dark-haired figure with two torches. "She said she could help us understand," he mumbled.

"Be quiet, Nico. Don't you see? This is crazy!" Bianca cried, scooting obnoxiously away from me.

"I know it is," I defended. "But if you go back to the Hotel, they won't let you back in. No one wants you there anymore. You'll be stranded, and I won't help you. I'll wash my hands of you and be done with it." These were all varying degrees of dishonest. I wasn't sure if they would be able to get back into the Lotus. On one hand, Odysseus, the di Angelos, and my questmates had all been singled out and set up by a god or gods. On the other hand, there had been a lot of people in there. Was it really plausible that none of them had just walked in? And even if the di Angelos did run off, I'd go after them. Hades wanted a shot at controlling the prophecy, and my own tail was on the line if he didn't get it.

"Are you threatening me?" We'd slowed. We were on the exit.

"I think 'warning' is a better word," I hissed. My temper was starting to pique again. _Lovely, and so soon_. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it would be to turn around right now?' I paused, considering, and then added the mightily nuanced: "You don't even know what kind of world you're in."

"I know enough to know that my brother and I shouldn't have run off with some little girl we just met," she snapped.

"I don't think that's what she means," said Nico, who had been ignored for most of the argument.

And he was ignored again. "That's rich coming from a twelve-year-old girl who doesn't have the wisdom to observe the most basic facts without having them pointed out for her. You didn't even notice your own amnesia. What do you think somebody so clueless and naive is going to do all on her own in the middle of the city? You'll get you and your brother killed." Especially if that gang from the books was around.

"Go to the police," she said smartly.

"And how are you going get there? Are you going to walk? Because you know your way around, don't you?"

"Bianca…"

"I'll take a cab. This one, even."

"I'm not paying your fare," I said coolly, "so with what money? Unless you brought your cash cards with you, too."

Her confidence faltered, and in the background, Nico's voice became more insistent. "Bianca, I think…"

"Nico, you're ten. Nobody cares what you think right now," she snapped at him. And though Nico knew she was distressed, he looked hurt. Like Nico in the books, however, he was determined. The sharp glint in his eyes told me he wasn't giving up.

"But this is important," he pressed.

"Stop the cab," Bianca said.

The driver's bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise. "We're in the middle of city traffic. How—"

"Don't," I snapped, "I'm paying you."

"Bianca!"

"I said stop the cab!"

In a bizarre twist of fate, the driver had been so distracted by our shouting that he'd missed the yellow light ahead. So when he looked up and saw it go red, he slammed the brakes, bringing us to a screeching halt in the middle of the intersection. My shoulder was jerked with bruising force against my seatbelt; the driver swore; Nico screamed and dropped the action figure; Bianca made some undignified sound, like, "Urp!"

And just as the cabbie turned around to yell at us, and horns began going off from all directions, Bianca leaned over her brother, opened his door, and dragged them both out, darting between cars to the sidewalk. More horns.

"Hey!" said the driver. I picked up my bag, unclicked my seatbelt, and slid across the seat. "Hey! Kid, you can't just…"

I paused for only an instant and then grabbed the Mythomagic thing off the floor. Then I ran too.

"Hey! What about my tip?!"

 _I guess you aren't getting it, pal._

The car horns were really getting annoying. And I was freaking out. I couldn't really see the di Angelos, and I could only hear their shouting when the cars weren't honking at each other. So I only knew the general area towards which they were headed, and I had to run through thankfully stopped cars to see if I was even close to right. Luckily, unless they turned a corner, it would be clear where they were once I got to the sidewalk.

Less luckily, I was pretty sure Bianca was at least smart enough to turn a corner.

So when I reached the sidewalk, I asked an alarmed looking passerby, "Which way did those two kids go? Their dad's going to kill me."

Apparently I was believably genuine, since it was the truth. He pointed. "Left after Guitar World. Do I need to call someone?"

I couldn't (and wouldn't) spare him the time to answer before dashing off in that direction. I was in good shape, and I'd done a lot of running since getting here. This gave me a distinct advantage over a girl who'd spent the last sixty years playing video games and was hauling her little brother behind her. I knew I would catch up even though I was still panicking. And the feeling got even worse when I realized that I couldn't hear Nico's yelling anymore.

Which meant…

 _Either they somehow got away (unlikely)... or they stopped to hide somewhere. She's out of breath, and he can finally say what he wants without being interrupted._ Deciding that the second option was more likely, I gradually slowed to a walk, brushing by someone as I did. He snapped something in annoyance; I ignored him. This was fine, since he wouldn't have been able to hear a carelessly mutter apology over the group of tourists behind him anyways.

 _If I was a scared kid in a hurry, with no time to think, where would I hide? Out of sight, out of mind. Not in a shop or restaurant._

My mind went straight to all the movies I'd seen where people hid out by the bins. I thrust my way through the crowd to the nearest restaurant I could find. It was directly connected to others on each side, which meant that their dumpster was probably around the back. I needed something in an alley or off to the side, easily accessible. And, following that line of reasoning, I ignored restaurants or really any kind of shop at all and began glancing into the mouth of any dark alley I crossed until I had been searching for a good ten minutes.

It was at this point that I wondered whether one of them had accidentally shadow travelled, sort of like how book-Percy had accidentally waterlogged Nancy or how I had accidentally blinded myself. That kind of accident would land them in nothing but trouble, since they would be stranded, practically beacons to any monsters around them; not to mention it would practically be a death sentence for me.

My mouth felt very dry, and I could feel myself moving on from hope to despair. I could barely make myself look anymore. There was almost a sense that they were already lost. So when I headed back the direction from whence we'd all originally come, I was almost surprised to hear voices from exactly the place I would have expected them. Nico di Angelo's voice was urgent, though it was far enough off that it almost sounded like a mumble. I quieted my footsteps, ducked a little, and tried to stay out of sight. My grip on the Mythomagic figure tightened. Now that I'd found them, it seemed appropriate to eavesdrop. Just a little, of course.

"... not saying it's not crazy. It is. Did you see her eyes?"

A tired sigh. "What about them?"

"What do you mean? They were really gross. It was like they were bleeding or something."

"... I'm not sure what you're talking about, Nico. She had dark eyes."

"How could you not see that?" I could practically see Nico throwing up his arms in exasperation. I was exasperated too. How had he seen them and not his sister.

"Her eyes weren't the weird thing, Nico. Everything else was," Bianca explained tensely. "She's really young to be escorting us so far. And she didn't name our father, or his company, whatever it is. And she won't—we already talked about this. You know how a feel. How on earth can you possibly think we need to follow this girl around?!"

"It just didn't seem like she was lying. She seemed really stressed out. And if Dad didn't send her, she wouldn't have been able to check us out of the hotel."

His defense sounded a little unenthusiastic, and if the moment of quiet was any indication, Bianca noticed too. "That doesn't really mean anything," she said. "She could have lied at the front desk." There was no front desk. "Maybe they believed her."

"Even if she was lying, something she said freaked me out."

"Everything she said should have freaked you out, Nico. She was trying to kidnap us or something."

"I don't know… I mean, she said something about us not knowing anyone or anything, and it made me think…"

"Think what? She was trying to scare us, Nico. Amara's probably working for some kind of creep."

 _Well, she's right about that._

"No, not like that. I mean… I was trying to ignore you guys arguing, and I looked outside, and I realized everything was different! Like the cars, and the buildings, and…"

There was a moment of unhappy quiet. Bianca must have silently realized the same, because her next words came forced. "We barely remember anything from before, Nico. How would we know what's different?"

"I remember travelling to the hotel with that creepy lawyer. There weren't as many cars and the road was smaller. There weren't as many tall buildings. And I don't think that city was there."

"What? This city? We've… we've never been here." Blatant denial in her voice. It was obvious and interesting, since I didn't really know what he was talking about either.

"Quit playing dumb, Bianca! The hotel moved! That city we left wasn't there when the lawyer brought us!" I was glad I couldn't see Nico. Maybe I was hearing a glimpse of the son of Hades, the occasionally fierce and terrifying that I'd once marvelled over as a reader. It almost made me miss the statement. _The hotel moved_. Las Vegas would have been on the brink of a population explosion in the forties. The hotel could have moved there, or the city could have been built up around it. Either way, it would have been a noticeable change.

Apparently, one not even Bianca could deny. "It has changed a lot," she muttered softly. I imagined her hugging her knees, curled in on herself.

"Yeah," said Nico, suddenly much quieter. He sounded subtly smug, though which shocked me until I realized that at this point, he was just a normal kid.

"What are we gonna do, Nico?"

I decided that this was my cue. I rose up from my crouch and swallowed.

"Someone's coming," said Nico. He sounded alarmed, almost like he expected to be pounced on. Actually, that was a risk now. They might not have known everything, but they were more aware than before.

Still, when it was me that rounded the dumpster and not some terrible monster, I was surprised to see that they looked relieved (or resigned, in Bianca's case). I held out the Mythomagic figure. "You dropped Hecate," I said coolly, staring down at them both as Nico almost hesitantly took the figure.

"Sorry," he said, staring at her painted on eyes and glancing at the asphalt by his feet, looking almost abashed for some reason. Like it was his idea to run off.

I let the silence stew a little, making momentary eye contact with Bianca before adjusting the straps on my shoulders. Then, in what I felt was a momentary stroke of genius, I turned on the heel of the ratty flying Converses and began to walk away. I heard Nico stand up almost right away, could practically see him jerking on his sister's sleeve as she, too, rose to her feet. "Wh—where are you going?" she called, not moving from where she stood.

I stopped where I stood and glanced back at her over my shoulder. The barrel of my gun gleamed in the corner of my eye. I wondered why they hadn't asked about it. Couldn't they see through the Mist yet? I think Nico can… a little. A gun's a far cry from a weird set of eyes. "Like I told you, if you decide to run off, I'm washing my hands of you. Your dad told me to bring you from the hotel to him. I can't exactly drag you there, and I didn't agree to a wild goose chase."

"So, what?" she snapped. "You came back to… to chastise us?"

I resisted the urge to grin slyly at her."I came back to give your brother his toy. It would be a shame if he didn't have something to entertain him on the long walk to the hotel… or wherever you're going."

"Where's our dad?" Nico asked, letting go of his sister only for her to grip his sleeve.

"In town," I said. "Which is fortunate, because it won't take me long to turn in my resignation."

"What's resignation?" asked Nico as I began walking away.

Bianca ignored him. Poor kid; we were making a habit of that. "Take us to our dad."

It was a demand, and when I turned around, Bianca seemed full of a determination I could admire. Maybe I'd misjudged her and she was more like her brother than I'd thought. I didn't mind, as long as she was determined with me and not against me. "Why now? You didn't seem very keen on the idea earlier, Bianca."

She crossed her arms, stepping in front of her brother, like she was shielding him. "We have a lot of questions, Amara. We need answers. You implied you could help us, or that our dad could."

"Depends on the question," I said. They were following me now, and we were getting close to the sidewalk.

"Let's start with this one," she said sharply. "Why are you carrying a gun?"

For the millionth time that day, I froze where I stood. My shotgun felt especially heavy on my back. And, as if the Fates themselves were working against me, a massive shadow passed over us. My shoulders tensed; I looked up.

"It's a bird!" I heard someone say from the streets.

"It's a plane," another person corrected. They continued walking as if nothing was there.

The thing screeched.

"It's definitely a bird," said Nico. He sounded stressed.

 _So am I. Di immortales. Is this from Zeus, or the Romans?_

I looked up at us. Swooping over the roofs of the buildings around us but much too big to fit in the alley was a golden eagle that almost seemed to have the wingspan of a school bus. I felt distinctly ill. Something told me this wasn't Zeus himself, but it probably wasn't meant to be an early birthday present either. Actually, something told me Zeus had sent this eagle so that the di Angelos wouldn't reach their next birthdays at all.

Zeus was cagey right now, after all. He probably wasn't keeping a close eye on the question, but even so, it would have been hard for him not to notice his brother's mysteriously vanished children suddenly reappearing at the same ages and shapes in which they disappeared.

I decided I didn't really like Zeus.

"No," I said. "That's the reason I carry a shotgun."

And, dropping my bag on the ground, aiming my gun to the sky, I set my sets on the monstrous symbol of Zeus and sent the beast its swift dispatch in the form of carefully aimed, Celestial Bronze birdshot.

* * *

 _Trying my hand at some more dialogue based chapters; can't say I like them. Dialogue has never been my strong suit, ya know? But I guess practice makes perfect. Right?_

 _In other news, this is really the only story for which I have any enthusiasm right now. So I'm getting a decent amount of writing done. I hope you all are enjoying it thus far (:_


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

The thing is, there's no way to make a shotgun blast quiet. You can do your damndest, but that won't be enough. It's loud, especially in a partially enclosed space like an alley, where it will echo. And the sound doesn't stop there—it goes outside. And even if you're using a demigod weapon, mortals will hear it. Or so common sense dictates.

So without even looking up to see the eagle dissolve into a shower of gold flakes, I grabbed Nico and Bianca and made a run for it. I didn't know _exactly_ where I was headed, but I did know I needed to be out of the immediate area. Even if the monster threat was gone, there was now mortal attention, and my face had already been on the news alongside Percy and Annabeth. I didn't want any more publicity. Period.

Nico was crying a little. I guess the noise scared him; he was a little boy. There was nothing to be done for it.

"Some idiot's shooting off fireworks in the middle of the day," an annoyed mortal under a cafe umbrella observed. We dashed past her.

"What just happened?" Bianca gasped. "What was that?"

"Can't talk right now," I gasped.

"But—"

"We have to keep going, just a bit farther."

"Amara, I can't keep running anymore."

Nico this time. I certainly wasn't going to carry him, so I simply pulled harder until I felt that we were safely out of sight of anyone who'd been to close to the shotgun blast.

"What was that?" Bianca repeated when we had slowed to a walk.

"It was a giant eagle," I replied, deigning to give an obvious question an obvious answer.

"We noticed," said Bianca, "but that's not what I mean. Why'd you shoot it?"

Nico seemed a mixture of awed and afraid. "That was so cool! If you were in Mythomagic you could probably do a lot of damage!"

It was a weird kind of compliment, but I didn't really see the point of ignoring him again. "Thanks, Nico. And let's just say that you won't learn about forty foot eagles in biology class. They aren't…. what we think of as naturally occurring."

"But…" Bianca seemed to be grasping for words. "Really big birds exist. Maybe it's just a freak thing."

I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah, really big birds do exist. On Sesame Street. Or maybe you're thinking of Andean condors, which have _ten_ foot wingspans."

"It Mythomagic, Zeus can play the golden eagle card to carry off his opponent, and the other person loses a turn," Nico said. "It even does a hundred damage!"

The skies were clear, but thunder rumbled in the distance. My eyes went to sky, and suddenly, I realized what an idiot I was. "Nico, quit throwing the names around like that."

He looked off-put. "Huh?"

I paused, wondered how to explain it. "If I wanted to get your attention, Nico, what would I do?"

He looked deep in thought. "Um… you would… poke me or talk to me, I guess."

"And what would I say?"

"Oh," he said. "My name."

"Exactly."

"Hold on," said Bianca. "Are you trying to say that Nico's attracting the wrong kind of attention by naming gods and goddesses? They're _characters,_ Amara."

I thought about pleading the fifth by saying absolutely nothing at all, but instead I said, "Sort of like the golden eagle with one hundred attack power was a character. That thing could have flown off with one of us, Bianca."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean the other stuff is real," she protested. "It might not be from the game at all."

"Precisely," I agreed. Bianca looked pleased. "It's less that the eagle is _from_ the game that it is that the eagle _inspired_ the game."

She looked very much less pleased, but also doubtful of her own protests.

"So is Mythomagic real?" Nico asked excitedly. "That's so cool! How much damage can you really do?"

This time, I really did decide to plead the fifth. Partially, at least. "Damage isn't really dealt in points."

"I wonder how much HP that eagle had. You killed it in one turn! So cool!"

Bianca rolled her eyes. "Mythomagic is a _game,_ Nico. Come on."

"Amara just said it was real, didn't you Amara?" In the blink of an eye, he'd gone around Bianca to pull at my sleeve. And given that Bianca was glaring at me again, I felt distinctly uncomfortable. I glanced around, looking for an escape route, when I saw something I hadn't seen in several hours at least. I shook myself free of Nico and pointed at the sign ahead of us.

"Time for a bathroom break," I said. "We're not stopping again until we get to your dad."

Nico looked like he wanted to say something else, but a look of sudden realization crossed his face, and he made a mad dash to the boys' room. I could sympathize. It was very well-timed.

"Are you serious about the names thing?" Bianca asked as she trailed behind me into the ladies'.

"I am," I told her. "Will you let me pee now?"

She looked unhappy, but graciously allowed me to retreat to a stall. Still, when I came out, she still looked ready for an interrogation.

"... I think I'm going to wash my hands too, Bianca," I told her.

"That's fine. You don't need clean hands to talk," she said smartly, crossing her arms. "Are you messing with my brother? I know his obsession with that game is really annoying, but he's a kid. Cut him a break."

 _Don't tell me what to do,_ I nearly said. But that would have been childish, so instead I told her, almost wearily, "I'm not messing with your brother."

"So you really expect us to believe that saying 'Zeus' or 'Hecate' or 'Hades' or whatever is a bad thing? Even you said 'Hecate'." I cringed at her use of the names. With my luck there would be another eagle perched outside the bathroom door. "They're just names."

"Names have power," I said. "They turn heads, Bianca. Even if you think I'm lying, do you really want to test that theory? Did you not see that bird? Do you think it might have been _friendly_ or something?" Bianca had gone from too gullible to too stubborn, and unfortunately, Artemis wasn't here to swoop in and prove me right. And something told me that Bianca in her current state would stop cooperating the second we stepped into the Underworld and she realized how far she was out of her comfort zone.

 _That could actually be useful. The di Angelos are my leverage. And if I bring them both to Hades at once, I'm practically giving my leverage away._

"Since you're so skeptical of it all, you should stay here. I won't be having you putting your brother and I in danger just because you can't be bothered to avoid saying a few names. It's nothing personal, Bianca, and I'll be back for you shortly." That I planned to leave Bianca behind, even for just a couple of hours, reminded me of Percy and Annabeth. The thought kind of stung. Still, Percy and Annabeth were safe at the moment, and as long as Bianca would stay put, so was she. She was slightly aware, but barely believed what was right in front of her own face. As long as she didn't change her mind while I brought Nico to Hades, she would be fine.

Still, something told me she wouldn't agree to this plan so easily.

"Are you suggesting that I'd hurt my brother?" she snapped.

"Not intentionally. But if you insist on behaving foolishly, that's what's going to happen." My mind was made up. She was _not_ leaving this bathroom until I had what I wanted. These fixes had to be made.

"Foolishly? Who do you think you are?"

I dried my hands. "A valid critic. Would you like to hold on to my knife, or my shotgun?"

 _Please take the knife._ "Excuse me? Why would I need that?"

"Because you need to stay safe, too. Although my hope is that you won't need to use them." I was starting to get this odd feeling in my gut. It was a sense of foreboding, really.

Bianca snapped. "Well, I won't need them, because you aren't walking off with my brother!"

She started to stamp out of the bathroom.

Let me explain. I was prone to bursts of temper, and still am. Earlier, it had occurred to me that the di Angelos would make excellent bartering material. And, just a few minutes before, I had realized that bringing them both into Hades' presence with no easy escape would mean giving them up for nothing. That wasn't what I wanted. And when Bianca turned her back on me, I suddenly realized that I didn't just _want_ her to stay here.

I _needed_ it.

One of my customary bouts of temper began almost right away. I could feel my ears going hot and red. I opened my mouth to snarl at Bianca, knowing that I would stop this failure at any costs, and blinked.

Bianca wasn't there, but in her place was a lightly colored mouse with a dark spot on its head and vibrantly intelligent dark eyes. Its whiskers twitched as if in puzzlement as I stared down at it, and it let out a little squeak. So did I.

 _Did I do that?_

"Bianca?"

The little mouse squeaked again. I thought for a moment, and my lips curled in a fragile smile. I stooped down and picked her up. She was very small, and very vulnerable.

I decided to make a suggestion. "How about a compromise?"

Bianca squeaked again. I decided to take that as a sign of agreement and calmly tucked her in my pocket. In reality, I was anything but calm. My pulse had shot up, but I felt weak and my palms were clammy. It was a mixture of a genuine state of panic and a sudden onset of tiredness, like I'd run a marathon. If there was any doubt that I was the one who'd magicked the older, more annoying di Angelo into a rodent, it was gone. _I don't know why I'd feel so wiped out otherwise…_

 _Blinding myself… transfiguring things… who the heck is my mom?_

Only remembering that Nico was waiting outside kept me from standing at the sink, splashing my face with water for a good ten minutes. I made my way outside, preparing myself to say whatever bullshit I needed to so Nico would "leave his sister", per se.

"What took you guys so long?" Nico complained. It had only been about twenty minutes, tops, but it had gone from late daylight to dimming sunset. I didn't want to be out of doors at night, so I figured we should book it. "Where's Bianca?"

I thought. "You know how you asked if Mythomagic was real?"

Nico looked excited, but not distracted, which was okay. "Yeah, but what does that have to do with Bianca?" He stared at the door to the girls' bathroom like he might be able to see through it to his sister.

"Well, I think you picked up that it's… _kind of_ real. Sort of. And Bianca is freaking out about it. She's taking some time to calm down; someone will get her later."

He looked skeptical. "So… you want to leave her on her own?"

I sighed. "I don't think she really wants company anyways, Nico. And…" I leaned towards him. "... the way things are going, she could potentially be putting us in danger. You saw the eagle. This is already risky. She doesn't want you to get hurt, so she's going to stay on the down low for a while." The mouse fidgeted in my pocket. I could feel her biting a hole in my pants. _Spiteful bitch. Granted, I would be angry if I was turned into a small animal, too._

"What's the down low?"

"It basically means she's going to try and keep to herself until it's safe," I explained. I wasn't completely lying, which was probably the only thing that made it believable.

Nico hesitated. "You promise Bianca will be safe until she catches up with us?"

I almost rolled my eyes. _Pinkie promise, kid. She only dies if I do._ "I swear it." I paused in consideration. I did want her safe. I wasn't going to be the one to screw Nico di Angelo over even more than I already had. He was a nice kid, and even if Bianca was kind of annoying, she wasn't bad either. "On the River Styx."

There was more thunder rumbling in the distance. Nico's eyes glinted. "The River Styx? Like in—"

"I'm guessing it's in Mythomagic."

"Yeah!" Nico said as we started walking again. "You can play the River Styx card to take a vow of alliance with another partner, or to trade item cards, or—"

I tuned him out, and when I thought it was safe to pay attention again, I said, "We should be getting close."

"Really?" he asked excitedly. He looked like he was fretting, though. Nico looked up at me almost hesitantly, biting his lip. "Is Bianca okay?"

"Definitely," I assured him. "She's safer now than she has been the whole trip." _I turned her into a freaking mouse. I turned her into a freaking mouse. She's a mouse. Into which I transformed her. What if I can't change her back?_ I steeled and quieted my inner panic mode. "I promise."

"Okay," he said, still sounding a little concerned. "So… do you know where we're going?"

"I had hoped we'd be dropped off at the door," I said, frowning. But my disposition was looking up immediately. I came to the realization that even though I knew where DOA Studios was, I wasn't sure how to get there. I promptly began plotting.

And then, Nico, in a somewhat small, mildly annoyed voice, said, "Shouldn't you know the way to your work? Can't we just ask for directions?"

I blanched. "Of course."

In the next few moments, we stopped a passerby to direct us to Valencia Boulevard, ignoring what seemed to be genuine concern in order to beat the setting sun.

It had been a long day.

* * *

"My dad works here?" Nico asked.

There had been a brief moment after we'd finally arrived when Nico's eyes had skipped over the Studios in a way that was almost Harry Potter-esque. Maybe due to his childish open-mindedness, however, he'd quickly noted the building and taken a hesitant step back.

"' _No living?'_ " he read.

"It's a joke," I assured him. _Sort of._ "It's kind of sardonic humor. You'll get it later. I promise."

"What's sardonic mean?" he asked, but I was pulling him towards the doors, deeply concentrating. I halted a moment before, coming to the abrupt realization that I'd nearly forgotten something.

"It means… dark sarcasm, I guess."

"Okay." He paused. "Why are you taking off your shoes?"

"They're dirty," I said casually.

"But don't you have to wear shoes to work?"

"It says 'No Loitering, No Living', not 'No shirt, no shoes, no service'. Anyways, I think that applies exclusively to customers. I'm an employee, and you, the boss's son. My shoes or lack thereof are the last things we need to worry about."

"Okay," he agreed, sounding a little less than convinced. He glanced at the doors, which were very much tinted. "Can we go inside now?"

"Certainly," I said, shedding my socks for good measure and feeling very much like a vagrant in spite of my clean clothes.

Inside, they were tinted, too. It wouldn't do for the dead clientele to catch glimpses of the living world outside. There was the sound of people softly mumbling, but each and every person in view had their mouths closed, quiet as… well, the dead. Nico clung to my side more than was typical, given that he'd just met me today. "It's creepy in here."

Maybe he had some kind of sixth sense and I did too, because I didn't remember Percy thinking the _lobby_ was creepy. "It definitely is," I said, taking in the way the overly done lighting made all the shadows extra dark and intense, the terribly cliche soundtrack in the background, and how the patrons seemed to be growing more translucent by the second.

Nico seemed to notice this too; his eyes widened. "Why—"

"Hush, Nico," I said, spotting Charon in the center of the room and walking towards him, pretending not to be hesitant and cowardly. Indeed, the more of this I did, the more I had to pretend.

Charon, too, had laid eyes on us. He looked uninterested on the surface, but he wasn't a good actor. He'd laid eyes on Nico, and knew who and what he was. _Whose_ he was, actually. He tried to glance away, as if he'd never spotted up in the first place, and by the time I reached his podium, he was daydreaming again (presumably about Italian suits).

"I request passage for two," I said, recalling that I had highly limited moneys at the bottom of my bookbag. I didn't really want to cough that up. With any luck, I wouldn't have to.

"Really?" he asked. Maybe my visit didn't have the same shock value as Percy's since I had Nico, because he didn't look _refreshed_. "You're quite young, to be dead. How did it happen, just out of curiosity?"

"Do you ask everyone that, sir?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him, my mouth studdling in its efforts to form a polite smile.

"Only in interesting cases," he drawled.

"Flattered," I said.

"Does he work for my d—"

I calmly placed my hand over Nico's mouth, "Mr. Charon, this is Nico di Angelo. Nico, this is Charon… honorable ferryman of the dead."

Nico's eyes widened… oddly, in delight. He said something behind my hand, but it was muffled. Probably about attack points or something.

Charon looked pleased with my description. "Yes. And how can I help you, Miss…"

"Easterling," I said shortly, "and as I said, we require passage to the Underworld."

Our cover was already blown, of course; thanks to Nico, he'd known we were half-bloods.

He probably knew we were alive, too. "Unfortunately," he said, glancing down at my bare feet, " _passage_ is not free. And given your youth… well, I doubt you have the means the pay for passage."

I meaningfully put my hand on Nico's shoulder, releasing his mouth. Charon's eyes shot to him, then back at me. "Do you take card?"

Charon swallowed. I had the upper hand. He couldn't deny passage to the boss's son, not really. He _could_ deny to me, but aside from the fact that I was living, he had no cause to. I could pay. "Typically. However… I can't say that your kind are typically allowed to cross the Styx alive."

"What? What does that mean?" Nico asked, but his voice sounded far away and in the background.

"I suppose that's true," I said softly. "But I'd hate to be stuck in the lobby, arguing with you all day. The working conditions are pitiful. Honestly. _Don't Fear the Reaper_? _Oh, Death_? You strike me as a man good taste. I can't be bothered to put up with this for as long as it might take to… sway your honor."

Chiron rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "Finally, someone who agrees. I've been _pleading_ for a radio that can pick up signal outside of the lobby but Lord Hades _refuses_ to see sense. The dead shouldn't be subjected to this, much less me."

I nodded, pretending to be sympathetic, and ignoring whatever Nico was saying in the meantime. "Honestly, I can't imagine dying and coming back to this music selection. Isn't it possible to rectify this?"

He was certainly alert then, and had no eyes for Nico. "Well… you see, for a job well-done, he might be… remarkably open-minded. I'm sure if you mentioned it…"

"A fair point," I agreed, "but I can hardly raise the issue if you won't grant me the opportunity to deliver."

His eyes met mine. His gaze was sharp and cutting, but I knew I'd won. Such was the nature of a greedy man, I supposed. "A godling like yourself surely has the means to tip generously in return for such a risk."

I smiled coldly. "I'd be pleased to tip you with genuine drachma… as soon as we reach the other side."

Charon hesitated and then finally looked pleased with this compromise. "We're agreed, then. Your card, please?"

"Do you really have thirty attack power?" Nico said in continuance of a tirade as I handed over the Lotus Cash Card.

I was thinking a combination of _Just thirty?_ and _What does he do, beat his opponent with oars?_ but all I did was hiss, "Nico."

"Excuse me, lad?" asked Charon, looking genuinely confused.

"The damage! Like in Mythomagic?" Nico pressed.

"I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about,godling," Charon said, deadpan. "Follow me."

"There aren't godlings in Mythomagic," said Nico as we followed the ferryman through throngs of the dead. "What's a godling?"

"I'll explain when we board," I swore, making sure he kept his way. He seemed tempted to walk towards the spirits; they were keeping their distance, but he gawked at them, oblivious to their fear.

"Okay," he agreed as he was squished against me in the elevator. The spirits around me seemed quite agitated; it was giving me the willies. I swallowed hard. The sooner I could get out of here, the better. "But are those ghosts?"

"They're spirits, Nico," I said, glancing around at the dead and tugging him towards me, like there was room to pull him away. We were crammed against the wall, and someone's hand was pinned beneath my back. I shoved it away and squared my shoulders. The dead were disturbing, but what was almost worse was how intimidated they seemed. They wanted to get away as much as I did.

"What's the difference?"

"They're exactly where they should be, in the land of the dead," I explained tensely. "A ghost is a spirit that isn't here, and instead stays in or is summoned to the land of the living, or most other places."

"Do ghosts have attack power?" Nico asked eagerly.

I sighed. "Nico, I know I told you that Mythomagic was inspired by reality, but that's not how it works. Strength isn't defined numerically. If you fall and scrape your knee, is a certain amount of damage done to your HP?"

"No, I don't have HP," Nico said, forehead wrinkling.

"Exactly." I frowned. "You spent so much time playing games that you've lost touch with reality. This isn't a game. And in the event that we are attacked, Mythomagic should be the last thing on your mind. Do you understand me?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Amara." He glanced at the spirits again. "So what's a godling?"

I reached into my pocket, where Bianca had settled down. She was still breathing, and she was so soft and well-behaved that, for a moment, I thought, _Can't she stay a mouse?_ And then I had to hold back a tide of freak-out again. "As I'm sure you've noticed, we're in the Underworld now."

Nico looked… pleasantly surprised. Would he think it so pleasant when he realized his father was the ruler of this place? Would it be so pleasant when he realized that this fact would ostracize him from the only people who could ever be his peers? "The Underworld? The real Underworld?"

Judging by the lack of babbling, I decided that there was not an Underworld card in Mythomagic. I raised a brow. "The better question would be _which_ Underworld." And before he could ponder that, I added more: "The real, _Greek_ Underworld. Greek like the stories and characters in your game."

As if the universe wanted to further help me introduce him to things which might have otherwise seemed unrealistic, there was an impact under our feet. The elevator had shifted into the boat that would take us across the Styx. It was a dingy craft, and if was almost a relief that Charon looked like a grim reaper rather than what he had before. How would that have been for juxtaposition?

 _More alarming than it is already._

"Whoa! When did we get in this boat?" Nico asked, clearly in awe. He looked thrilled. It would be sad to see the look go. Still not sad enough. My loyalties weren't to Nico.

"Just now," I answered lazily. "We're being ferried across the River Styx into the land of the dead." _The real dead._

At this, he had the decency to look a little uncomfortable. "Okay… but what does that have to do with the godling thing?" he asked, staring meekly into the soup of a river overboard. What looked like a bassinet smashed into the side of the vessel, but there was hardly any impact. Still, he startled away from the edge, staring back at me instead. "And why is there a crib in there?"

"It's a bassinet. And it's litter, Nico." I nervously tugged on the hem of my shirt, deciding to rip off the proverbial band aid. "The Greek Gods are real, Nico. All the ones you named on the way here and more."

"All of them? Really?"

I took in his face. He looked more believing than I had expected, but considering that this clearly wasn't a movie set, maybe that wasn't so surprising. "Do you believe me?"

"Yeah!" he admitted, getting over whatever wariness he had annoyingly quickly. I remembered the enthusiastic boy from book three, who remembered a bus driver with ram's horns. This was that boy. "That's so cool!"

"Well, try to restrain your enthusiasm a little. The gods expect to be approached with class, and we're going to meet your father."

"Woah! My dad is a god? That's what you mean?"

"That's what I said."

His eyes sparkled. "Who is he?" Then, just as quickly, his face fell. "Is it that guy from the lobby?"

"Sh!" I hissed, glancing at the ferryman. "No, that was Charon, and we've already met him. We're _going_ to meet your father. Pay attention, please."

He looked abashed. "Sorry."

"Your father is," I said. I'd stopped, of course, at wondering if I should invoke yet another name. But the chances were that he already knew exactly where I was, anyways. "Your father is Hades."

Nico was quiet. He looked conflicted: to be excited, or freaked out? Then he said, "My father's the death god?"

"No," cut in Charon, sounding annoyed, perhaps because he'd explained or heard this explain a million times. "The god of the dead, and of the Underworld."

"But that's the same thing!" Nico protested.

"No," I said as the shore came into view. "It's an important distinction. Death and the dead are two different things, aren't they?"

"Oh. Yeah," said Nico, catching on quickly. Not that he looked any more comfortable with the idea of his father. "So he's the god of dead people?"

"Yes," I agreed, "and of the realm in which they typically dwell. Do you understand?"

"... Yeah." This time, there was hesitation. In my pocket, Bianca had gotten a little frantic again. She could still hear our conversation, after all. "Does that mean I have to live here?"

I almost said _no_ off the bat, but then I realized that I had no idea what Hades wanted. He couldn't keep them here forever, but Nico had always had more interaction with his father than most other half-bloods. Would he be spending as much time there ars in Camp Half-Blood? I didn't know. I concluded, "Probably not. A half-blood (that's you, since your father is a god and your mother a mortal) can't spend too much time interacting directly with their godly parent. It's a very old rule."

He looked disappointed, even though he hadn't been incredibly thrilled to be the son of the 'god of dead people' in the first place. "Why not?"

I paused in consideration as the boat came to a stop. "I would suggest that it… is a power issue. But you're meeting your father now, and you know who he is. Bear in mind that many of us don't get that privilege."

I thought he must not have understood what I meant, because while I dug into the bottom of my bag for drachmas, the cursed shoes by my feet, he was quiet. I left four gleaming coins in our spot and gestured for him to follow me.

"Are you a half-blood too?" he asked finally, glancing over his shoulder as if he could feel Charon's empty eye sockets burning a hole in his back.

"Yes," I replied shortly.

"Who's your dad?"

"Mom. And I don't know yet."

"Oh."

What followed were the quietest moments of _Nico_ I had ever experienced. Perhaps if I hadn't been so heated in regards to that particular unknown, if would have been a relief. It wasn't. Instead, I started grinding my teeth, a habit which had been scared away by my dentist as a child but had now come back with a vengeance.

I had almost forgotten about the obstacles to come until I heard a loud, almost earsplitting whimper. "Cerberus," I said.

"The three-headed dog? Can I see?" Nico asked, tugging my sleeve, awkwardness forgotten.

"You will," I said as we got closer to the sound. My hands were shaking but I kept a firm grip on my magic shoes. I could only rejoice in the fact that the tremor didn't escape into my voice.

Feeling very chicken, I patted Bianca in my pocket. Not that she was in danger from this particular dog. I was pretty sure Cerberus preferred larger prey. Like people.

"I don't see him but he's really loud," Nico complained, walking ahead.

"Stay back."

"... but it's so loud. Where is it?"

"He's up ahead. Stay with me, please. It isn't a job well done if Cerberus rips your head off."

"Would he do that? Isn't he my dog?"

"He's your father's dog."

"Same difference, though!"

I shook my head. "I don't know if Cerberus has ever seen you. It isn't worth the risk. _Stay back._ "

"Fine," Nico complained as we advanced on what looked like a sickly green sheet of fog. I almost expected it to smell bad, but instead it was just loud. And not loud _growling._ Whining, like the world's biggest three-headed terror was being kicked.

I realized that the green sheet of fog was actually just the same Mist that was around us, highly concentrated because of all the dead and guards in their assigned spots. Even as a demigod, this wasn't something I was intended to see, so unless I was looking for it, it was concealed. And since I already knew what was there, I'd been ignoring the grassy field in the distance, full of grey blobs of people, and the lines steadily progressing that way. The closer I got, the more the Mist seemed to clear. I couldn't remember anyone describing the Mist that way. _Isn't it meant to be subtle?_

In fact, it was starting to feel like a curtain was being parted in front of us, and there was a great beast up ahead. I thought about asking Nico if he could see it too, but quickly realized he would think more of the Monster and less of the Mist.

I shook my head and instead focused on what at first seemed to be a shivering mass of air.

"That's him," I said.

"That?" Nico sounded disappointed.

I had to admit that I was too. Cerberus was massive, like a bunch of tanks stacked on top of eachother. He was loud, so loud he shook the ground. But he didn't look particularly fierce at that moment. Or sound that way.

It was harder to see him when he was still, but I could make out his barrel-chested Rott body, and lighter points around his eyes and muzzles. I could see his mouths especially well because they kept moving; he was constantly letting out whines, and his long, deadly sets of teeth were on display. As we got closer, he became steadily less intimidating. He didn't leap towards us, or growl, and his belly touched the dusty ground in a signal of submission.

It was like he'd been subdued.

"Your father is expecting us," I noted, standing what should have been too close to the monster for comfort.

"He's so sad," said Nico. "Shouldn't he be trying to eat us or something?"

"Yes," I said, glancing up at the animal. It glanced resentfully down at us, as if to say, _Why won't they let me tear you to shreds right now?_ In spite of myself, I felt my heart melting. It wasn't really a dog, but right now it sure looked like one.

I'd brought the shoes in with the intention of stealing Annabeth's good idea and playing fetch with them. _Now all I can remember is the dogs chewing the rubber off my old Converses. I was so mad._ "Hey, buddy. Have they got you tethered up there? Poor boy. I can't believe they'd do that to the best security in the Underworld."

Cerberus's heads whined in agreement. I couldn't believe I was talking to it, and apparently, neither could Nico. His eyes widened in childish awe all over again.

"I think you deserve a treat for being a good boy and working so hard, don't you?"

He whined again, but I caught a flicker of moving flanks. He was trying to wag his cropped tail. _So cute._

 _Wait, what?_

"How about something to chew on?"

At this, two of the three heads let out a little yap. His front paws dug a little into the ground.

" _Maia!_ "

Wings flew out of the shoes, and I threw them. What happened next was a sight to behold.

It wasn't on purpose, but I'd thrown one shoe to the left side and one to the right. The side heads fought for dominance as the shoes fluttered in spurts overhead(s). The middle head finally veered right, but when Cerberus jumped up to retrieve the shoe, all three heads snapped in different directions. There was drool everywhere, including on my bare foot. I hoped it wasn't slightly acidic like I thought.

One shoe down. Cerberus pinned it beneath one claw and proceeded to pulverize it. A wing went flying, and the sole sailed over my head. "Get the other one, boy!" said Nico, and I decided to use that happy diversion to allow us to move on. "Do you like dogs?"

"I had some once," I said, "but none quite like that one."

Nico laughed at me, and I felt myself smile a little bit. "That was so cool! Can you teach me how to do that?"

The truth was I hadn't done much of anything. I didn't need to play obedience school like Annabeth had because someone already had Cerberus settled. Hades wasn't taking any chances with his children. "Something tells me that won't be necessary," I said. "I have a feeling he's already very well trained, and would be happy to be on his best behavior for you."

At this point, I had noticed the spirits' caution around Nico once again. Even the unidentifiable beings in the field around us were steering clear. It had to be Nico, but I recalled with clarity how, even when he was an angrier, more temperamental boy in the books, ghosts had tried to take advantage of him. Was it different now because he was in the Underworld, or because they weren't aware of just how inexperienced he was yet? It made me uneasy. _Maybe now that Bianca will be by his side… for longer, at least… maybe we can avoid that in the first place._

Even so, rather than being harmless but eerie entities, the dead around us felt like potential enemies. I began to walk faster, ushering Nico through the fields at top speed.

"What are the spirits saying?" he had asked while my alarm compounded.

There was, in fact, a quiet noise in the background, almost like a quiet, whistling wind. It was only when I began to pay attention that I realized it had many separate components. Voices—a million of them—all speaking, but none communicating. "As far as I can tell, they're saying nothing. I think most of them are fading."

"Fading?"

"From existence," I said, stricken by the fact that I probably shouldn't tell that to a child.

Sure enough, Nico was alarmed. "Why?"

I shrugged. "They didn't do anything great enough to be remembered."

He frowned. "So if people remember you, you don't fade?"

I mulled it over. "Probably not as quickly, if ever." _I'm not sure why anyone would want to sit in these fields for longer than necessary, anyways. Unless they wind up elsewhere…_

"Oh," he said, looking very troubled. I recalled that he couldn't remember his mother, but that he knew she was dead, since the di Angelos had believed themselves to be orphans.

"You shouldn't worry about that now," I said. "I doubt you'll ever spend long here."

"What about when I die?" he asked.

I was pretty certain that I as a ten year old had a much better filter then Nico did. "You're ten, Nico. Don't worry about dying. Besides, heroes don't wind up in the Fields of Asphodel. They go to Elysium. Picture an eternal country club."

"Heroes? I get to be a hero? This is so cool! Bianca won't believe it!" he crowed.

"She will," I assured him. "Bianca will be a hero too."

The more time I spent with Nico, the more I was set on making sure she didn't become a hero the same way she had in the books. So I let him babble nonsensically about Mythomagic and superheroes for a long time, until nothing he was saying even had meaning anymore.

I could see the gardens.

They were beautiful. Perhaps it's a given, but Persephone had to be a very talented gardener. Granted, everything there was poisonous or otherwise dangerous, but that was why it was so colorful and aesthetically pleasing. The bright reds and yellows and even purples were a vibrant warning sign: _Do not eat. Do not touch._ And for me, that warning was enough to stop me from even thinking of the intense flavor of a pomegranate seed.

 _For now_.

"Woah, are those pomegranates? In Mythomagic, you can use pomegranates to make the other person miss a turn."

"They are, Nico. Don't touch them."

"I won't," he said, but his head turned as we walked towards a pair of undead Marines, looking more lethal in death than they ever had on the flipside. On all sides of us, there were wide ranges of soldiers and warriors with various deadly skills and weapons. I tried not to look at them, because I was already having heart palpitations. My anxiety had become much more extreme, and I thought back to Percy and Annabeth and feared that the only thing they would ever find of me would be my tattered shoes scattered from Cerberus's post to the banks of the Styx.

"We're here," I told Nico, staring into the eye sockets of one of the Marines. My body felt heavy. I couldn't move.

"—minions! If only they had these in the game! Hades could summon—" Nico snapped to attention. "Sorry. How do we get in? Those skeleton guys are in the way."

I felt as hollowed out as the inside of the dead soldiers' skull. "They'll move," I said.

And, at my word, they stepped aside.

* * *

 _Well, I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! Let me know what you think._

 _You guys can probably tell that TLT is slowly drawing to a close. I have a lot of ideas for Amara in the coming books (which will all be posted to this story instead of a second, third, fourth, fifth one and so on) and am REALLY excited to get into them. I can tell you one thing: I'm not going to just randomly toss Amara into every quest and skirmish. She's becoming a bit of a plotter and I don't see her stepping in where it isn't really necessary. Besides, that would be super boring for you guys to read._

 _By all this I mean to say that I want to hear what you guys think. Even though I have plans in the making, what do you see Amara doing in the future?_

 _Thanks as always for your support. This story wouldn't exist without you (:_


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

You'd think the land of the dead would be cold.

You'd be wrong.

Looking back, I wonder if the heat, which was reminiscent of stepping out of the casino and into desert air, wasn't a sign of raw power. Maybe it was kinetic energy radiating off of the Lord of the Underworld himself, making the throne room smell like a giant, hot breath.

I was nervous, and this was all worsened when Nico slipped his hand in mine. He was ten. Wasn't he supposed to be too cool to hold hands? But I couldn't make myself let go. I couldn't even make myself look ahead. Instead, I noticed for the first time that all of the pillars were exquisitely carved, probably out of basalt. I examined them with deliberately placed attention, took a breath, and finally managed to drag myself into the room. The air felt heavy and kind of humid. Already, I could feel my hair misbehaving.

"That's my dad?" Nico asked. He sounded intimidated. Maybe Hades didn't look like his action figure.

"It is," I said, straightening up. "Hurry along, Nico. It'll be fine."

"Okay," he said quietly, seeming a little more meek than me for once. I was trying to pretend that I was in a royal court or something. Like I belonged there. Like I wasn't frightened by the power in the air, so dense I could sense it without trying.

I could see Hades. He looked smug, and his eyes pierced me. They were a dark color I couldn't identify, and full of intelligence.

As I approached his throne, which seemed to be made largely out of bones from legs and upper arms, I heard that voice again. It sounded like a distorted version of myself. _You should lower yourself. He's a god, you know. The greatest of them. He deserves your service, praise, adoration, fear. Bend to his will, little worm. Don't you remember? He could squish you._

Before, I'd done my best to ignore the little voice in an attempt at rebellion. I had plans now, though. If I wanted to implore the god for a favor, I would do well to be on his good side. So I got down on my knees, my face burning even as I thought about it, and lowered myself to the ground. My hand was freed from Nico's. Bianca was jostled in my pocket as I addressed the floor. "Lord Hades."

His laugh sounded wicked. "I admit to being pleasantly surprised that you came. You've finally begun to prove your mettle."

 _More like develop it, actually._ "... Thank you."

"Get up. I believe you need to explain yourself, impertinent child."

Impertinent because Bianca didn't seem to be there, which meant that I had failed, or else that I was being defiant. I stood, dusted off my pants. Nico seemed to be trying to merge into my side, having apparently been affected by the god's aura as much as me. "I do hope that I correctly interpreted your orders."

He glanced at Nico, the least favorite. He was too young at ten years old, six long years away from being able to fulfill the prophecy. He could be a tool, but he wasn't the ideal. "You don't strike me as one to do a job halfway, especially when you know precisely what is at risk," he intoned, sending shivers up my spine. _My life_. "Why, then, would you bring one without the other?"

He examined me closely, looking for traces of dread or surprise. But I had a plan, and I knew exactly where _the other_ was, anyways. "I struck you correctly, my lord. I retrieved the elder child as well."

"And yet she is absent," he noted. He sounded not angry, but threatening. Nico shrank a little more.

"I apologize for the delay, my lord," I said, bowing my head and feeling my heart racing in my throat. "It is true that I don't like to halfass a job, especially for such a… highly esteemed master. However, I have a lot on my plate. Surely you understand, my lord, why I might presume to kill two birds with one stone."

"What do you mean?" Nico whispered at me. I brushed the hair on the side of his head with my fingers, gesturing for him to be silent. This was too important for interruptions.

"I see," Hades answered, his voice curling around me like a python around the neck. He sounded like he didn't entirely appreciate what he _saw._ "I suppose you expect some sort of assistance."

"Hardly, my lord." I said, taking a deep breath as I plowed on. "I wouldn't dare to ask you to act on my behalf given the circumstances. All I ask is for… a souvenir, for lack of a better word."

Hades raised thin, dark eyebrows. "And what would that be, presumptive child?"

 _How dare you ask anything of him? He's your master. Bow down already!_ "I couldn't help but admire your wife's gardens as we made our way, Lord Hades. I wondered if I might have a pomegranate."

I couldn't believe it, but I had clearly thrown Hades for a loop. Whatever he was expecting, that wasn't it. "You would have… a fruit?" he asked lamely, disbelieving.

"You can't eat pomegranate from here!" Nico cried. Mythomagic had been useful after all.

"Be quiet," Hades ordered, his voice echoing through the room. I trembled at the sound, but didn't back down. "Not the Jackson boy's mother? Not… immortality? A free pass to Elysium?"

The other options were mildly tempting, except that I could be immortal just by staying in the casino, and I didn't want to die soon enough to worry about Elysium. "Percy will be back for his mother, my lord," I explained. "I don't need to do the heavy lifting for him."

"Say I agree to allow you this… fruit," Hades said, still sounding rather confused. Nico was holding onto my side again, and I was sweating. _It's because I'm being smothered, not nerves,_ I told myself. "I see no reason to fulfill your request. After all, little _hero,_ you failed to complete mine."

"I didn't, actually," I said matter of factly, beginning to feel drained from resisting the urge to lie down at his feet where I so clearly belong. I glanced over at Nico. _How to say what must come next?_ "I can have Bianca with us in no time at all as long as my request for a single pomegranate is granted."

"Somehow I can't bring myself to doubt that, girl," he said, his voice cold, smooth, but, to my relief, honest. "But I think you realize that retrieving my children was only a part of your own quest."

I was hesitant to respond to that. I didn't want to reveal precisely how much I knew, but in this position, I had no choice. If I couldn't persuade him that I'd done my job, I wouldn't be leaving alive, much less with the supplies I needed. So I looked up, and said, "Lord Hades, I know that Zeus's symbol of power is not the only one that was stolen."

"You admit, then, to knowledge of my brother's plot," he snarled, leaning forward in his throne. The room became much hotter, and Nico stumbled back in fear, pulling me with him.

"No," I said, "I don't. I can't admit to knowing something that isn't true. Percy doesn't have your helm. He's a victim of all this."

"And I suppose you think that I should simply take your word for it and reward you for a job half done?"

A rock fell from the ceiling. Nico trembled. "Can we go?" he begged.

"Not now." I squared my shoulders. "I understand your unease, my lord. It's a hard story to believe, and I have no tangible proof to offer you."

"I suppose you have intangible proof, then?" Hades said, gripping the arms of his throne, nearly sarcastic.

"Do you really not know, my lord, of Percy's prophecy?"

"I know of a prophecy that _could_ concern the boy," Hades said, "although that will ideally not be the case."

I didn't know about that, but I certainly wasn't going to disagree with him. "Before the three of us set out on this quest, Percy visited the Oracle. A part of the prophecy was apparently something along the lines of ' _You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned.'_ " I patted myself on the back. I was pretty sure I had gotten that word for word. I didn't need to explain why that suggested Percy wasn't the thief."

"Certainly you've considered the likelihood that your friend is lying about the contents of the prophecy," he replied, healthily skeptical.

 _Not really. I read the books._ "I have, but I can't prove it. Here's something I know as a matter of fact, though. Not everyone thinks that Poseidon was responsible for stealing the master bolt."

"An unfortunate development," he said, sounding on the brink of anger, "but the accusations against me are unfounded."

"Just as unfounded as the accusations against Percy, my lord," I noted. I didn't want to anger him, however; I didn't linger on that point for long. "Do you know who suggested you, Lord Hades, as a potential scapegoat?" I had to take care of my wording. Where _suspect_ suggested suspicion, _scapegoat_ held notes of sympathy. Since I wasn't suspicious of Hades, there was little acting required.

Still, I could tell that this line of questioning was unexpected (though not as much as my request for fruit). He sounded irritated. "I know enough of my brother's accusations."

"But they aren't your brother's," I persisted, "not originally, anyways. The original source of the suggestion is from a nephew of yours. One who, I might suggest, enjoys war more than any other."

Hades scowled. "And who told you that Ares is responsible for these allegations? Jackson?"

At this, I smiled, an odd mixture between sly and genuine. "I'm afraid not. That information came straight out of the horse's mouth." _As long as a quote in a book is straight out of the horse's mouth._ I _technically_ hadn't been there when he said that. But Hades didn't know that. "He claimed we had him to thank for our quest."

Hades wasn't really looking at me anymore. He was thinking, deeply. I seized the chance to plant seeds of doubt. "If your brother compelled Percy to steal both weapons, he would have encouraged the two of you to suspect each other from the beginning. But now it's too late. The summer solstice deadline has been set, and if the master bolt isn't returned, I'm sure the Earthshaker will have both you and Zeus against him. And how many of the other gods will defy the two of you together? Poseidon's odds are far from good."

Hades actually seemed to be considering what I was saying. I didn't want to get cocky, but I certainly had hope in that moment. "My brother could have manipulated Ares."

I swallowed. I didn't really want to say anything that could get me into trouble, but I was guessing that as long as I didn't invoke his name, Poseidon wouldn't be paying me too much attention. Right now, he was probably too worried about trying to get Percy out of the hotel without interacting with him directly. "With all due respect, my lord, do you really think he's that smart?"

Hades didn't really _say_ anything, but he gave a (very dignified) mixture of a snort and an exhale that told me exactly what he thought about that. "That's a very bold comment, Amara Easterling."

"Obviously boldness is sometimes necessary," I replied. It was something I'd been forced to learn quickly. The room felt so much lighter. I was able to stand on my feet, and lift Nico to his.

Just like in my dream in the days before, he elected to be amused at my snark. "I suppose, then, that you believe your job is complete."

I frowned. "Not exactly. I believe that I fulfilled every command that I was able. I believe what Percy Jackson claimed about the prophecy; that is, _he_ is destined to retrieve and return the stolen items. So even if I knew where your helm was—" _which I do_ "—-and who has it—" _which I do_ "—I would be unable to bring it to you on my own. It's someone else's fate."

 _PleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASE let him believe me._

Even though I was sure I'd argued my case well, I was afriad. What if well wasn't well enough? He didn't necessarily have to back the idea one hundred percent, but I needed him to at least think it was a possibility.

"My nephew has never been given to such cleverness before," he mused. "If what you say is true, it would be important to speculate about what inspired him."

I wondered if Hades had detected what was stirring in the pit not too far from his palace. Not that I was planning to mention it.

"If that's the case, is it not important to solve the problems at hand in order to address who or whatever this challenger is?" I pressed. "If that's the case, they've caused a lot of trouble. Their end goal isn't going to benefit you or any of your brothers."

Hades chuckled. "Your mother would be proud of you." I winced. It stung, and I was fairly certain he intended it. "Give me Bianca. You can have your…"

"Fruit," I finished, my disbelief nearly matching his. Still, at the mention of my mother, my stomach was unsettled. "My lord, I must ask that you swear on the River Styx that I might take a pomegranate, and be granted safe passage back through the Underworld."

"A sensible request," said Hades, an arrogant smile forming on his countenance, "granted. I swear on the River Styx that, on the return of my daughter, you will be allowed to take fruit from Persephone's garden and leave my realm without being harmed."

"Amara," cried Nico, "you aren't leaving?"

"Your sister will be with you," I said, bowing to Hades, though I didn't lower myself to the floor this time. "Thanks you, my Lord."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wriggling, white mouse.

"What's that?" asked Nico.

I coughed. "I'm afraid, my lord, that Bianca was reluctant to meet you."

Hades studied the mouse, which I suddenly realized was covered in a ball of green Mist only when I focused closely on it. Mist like what had surrounded Cerberus, and what had presumably given him the illusion of invisibility. Mist, which could manipulate perception, and apparently, manipulate reality.

"You suggested, my lord," I began, setting Bianca gently on the ground, "that you could identify my mother."

"I could," he said, looking completely unaffected at the state of his daughter. I was pretty sure I could remember Nico complaining of being turned into a plant at dinner once. If that was something Demeter did often, maybe he was used to seeing people forcibly shapeshifted.

"May I implore you, my lord, to tell me whether this particular… talent is one that was inherited?"

He smirked. "As I said, you're the strongest spawn your mother has produced in centuries."

The mouse curled into a frightened ball, and with a wave of the god's hand, became Bianca, lying, shaken, on the floor.

"She will be pleased to hear that she's finally produced a child who isn't entirely useless."

That stung. The reminder that I was a pawn. And anxiety began to pool in my gut, because I had a feeling about what was coming.

Nico was sitting on the floor next to his sister, saying things like, "Are you okay? How did she do it? Was it cool to turn into an animal? Do you think she'll do it to me?"

Hades continued. "I'm sure I'll hear all about her plans for you in the spring." His lips curled into a scowl. _That's right. Parents talking about their children? Disgusting._

I knew now. It wasn't Persephone. He would hate me then, evidence of a transgression against him. But who else came every spring? Who had once helped Demeter search for her daughter, played the peacekeeper like I was now? Who else acted as Persephone's companion while she was here in Hades' realm? Who else had an affinity for the Mist… and for turning people into animals?

"Hecate always has had to be in the middle of things."

I licked my lips, but my tongue felt dry. My eyes were fixed on the ground. So she was the one responsible. _She_ was to blame. "I see."

I hated her. Finally, I knew. But I didn't feel any more satisfied. I'm not sure what I felt. Maybe it was disappointment. You know: _why can't I be a child of one of the Big Three?_ or _at least one of the twelve Olympians?_ But I wasn't sure that was it. I didn't want a strong scent. I didn't want a ton of superpowers. I wanted to go home. So knowing who my mother was didn't make me feel better. It didn't make me feel anything. It just gave me an outlet at which to direct months of anger and resentment and sadness and fear.

"I expect, little hero, that my helm be returned," Hades was saying. I zoned back in. "Regardless of _fate,_ I will see it as your personal failure if it is not returned to me by the solstice. You understand, don't you?"

Slippery. Cold. A noose around my throat. I nodded. "Of course, my lord."

"Excellent," he said, giving me that terrible smile with his too-white teeth again. "I believe it's time for you to leave."

And so it was.

Without another word, I turned my back to him and began to go.

"Wait! Amara!"

It was Nico. Of course it was. He was a little boy, after all, and was needy for attention, just like all of them are. Bianca couldn't exactly pay him attention; she was too shell shocked. "Stay here, Nico," I said, staring back over my shoulder. "You'll be fine. I'll see you soon."

He looked at his father. "But… he's…"

"Scary?" I asked. Nico didn't have to confirm. "He's going to give you access to resources that other demigods only wish they had." Hades was watching us carefully. So amused. So smug. And he was scary. Nico was right. "This is a dangerous life, Nico. Take advantage of them."

"Can't you stay?" he asked hopefully.

"Your father dismissed me," I said. "I have to go. But I know that you can't stay here long." I didn't have time to explain much. "Zeus knows you and Bianca are out and about now. He won't allow it. You'll have to go to camp soon."

"Camp?" Nico asked, looking more confused and upset than before.

"Camp Half-Blood," I said, looking over his shoulder again at Hades, who seemed a little more impatient. He hadn't talked to his children in sixty years, after all. "3.14… Farm Road 3.141. I'll be there!" The room was getting a little bit hotter. "I have to go."

I had to throw his hand off me, but I got to the doors before he could do anything, and they swung open as if of their own accord. Or Hades's.

 _I never thought that I'd be relieved to be surrounded by skeleton warriors._

Now that I wasn't nervously awaiting a meeting with the Lord of the Dead, I could look around. It was like a very unsettling history lesson. The room was essentially a long hall with a floor that looked to be made of pure Celestial bronze. It glowed a little in the torchlight and gave of blurred reflections of the walls and doors on either side. Also reflected were the skeleton warriors, from all eras, all shapes and sizes, and in various… conditions. Let's just say that some of them looked like they'd been around a lot longer than the others.

The longer I looked, the more I could see the green of the Mist curled around all of them. These weren't illusions; they were real. I privately theorized that the magic being used was what kept them animated, and what kept them from further decomposition, hence the lack of a terrible smell.

I turned my back on them and walked out. I didn't want to see the Mist anymore.

Identifying my mother had set a fire in my veins. It hurt to identify someone other than my mom as my mother. But I'd never see my mom again. And even now, the imposter's identity was revealed in the relative privacy of Hades' palace. Unless I wanted to give everyone a very detailed play-by-play of what had just happened, no one would be any the wiser. And I wasn't sure if Hdes's word was enough for me to be considered 'claimed'. I was pretty certain that was something my mother had to do.

 _Hades never really claimed Nico, but he lived in the Hades cabin after it was built._

The thought popped into my head quickly, and I dismissed it with the same speed. Nico had displayed power and abilities that no one but a son of Hades would have. Besides, even though there'd never been a glowing skull or whatever Hades used as a symbol over his head, the god had shown up to battle with him. He'd done a little bit more than the typical 'claiming' really required. There was no questioning Nico's parentage.

I, on the other hand, was a different story. My only interaction with my mother had been in a dream, when she'd slapped me multiple times. She hadn't identified herself. The only power I could think of off the top of my head were random, impulsive manipulations of the Mist during times of high stretch. Other demigods who _weren't_ children of Hecate could manipulate the Mist. Case in point: Hazel Levesque.

 _Not like you._

Once again, the thought popped up unbidden. I could dismiss this one as easily. Hazel Levesque had used the Mist to create and change illusions. I couldn't recall any time that she'd ever used it on purpose the way I had accidentally. Hazel was a powerful demigod. Her strengths, however, were much different than mine. I even thought back on Thalia using the Mist to fool the teachers at the di Angelo's school. It was a useful skill, but not in the same league as what I had been doing.

 _Wait. The di Angelo's school._

I had stopped in the garden, feeling myself devolve into a panic once again. It was quickly dawning on me how much I had just changed. The di Angelos knew who they were a year and a half early. They'd have time to train and grow. _Hades may not even send them to the school, and even if he does, Thorn may never get the jump on them. And if that doesn't happen…_

Annabeth wouldn't get captured. _Good_.

Artemis never gets captured. _Also good_.

The quest to find Artemis never happens. _Good…? Except that…_

Percy never has cause to find that cow creature and stop the gods from killing it, which probably had a huge impact on how Percy saw the gods and how the gods saw Percy.

What had been the plot of _The Titan's Curse_? Hadn't Luke wanted to get Thalia on his side so _she_ could kill the cow thing and be host to Kronos? Surely that plot wouldn't just go away. Luke and his cronies would still be after the creature, and they would still want to stop Artemis from hunting it. They would still want to free Atlas, which meant they would still need a placeholder to bear the weight of the sky. Who would it be? Would they still act as a lure?

I swallowed. That was long enough away that I wasn't sure if I should dwell on it. I grabbed a pomegranate and pulled it away with a satisfying _snap._ It smelled outstanding, and since I actually like pomegranate, I _was_ a little tempted to eat of it. But I had been raised to defy temptation, and the literal fruit of my labor was also forbidden fruit. I looked over its beautiful, untarnished skin and then stowed it away. It wasn't meant for me, after all.

The walk through the Fields of Asphodel was not something I was particularly looking forward to without a child of Hades at my side. Whereas they'd parted like the Red Sea before, it was now a lot like navigating through a crowd at a ballgame or a concert. Souls were everywhere, densely packed, and they touched and whispered and grabbed at me as I walked by. I was afraid, although I knew none of them would do me any harm. Sometimes there would be cold fingers in my face or my hair; sometimes I would hear the dead grass crunching beneath a pair of feet too closely behind mine. And even though the spirits were ghostly and translucent, I began to realize that I was dirty, and if all their invasions of my personal space had smeared very real, not-ghostly soil all over my clean clothes.

I got out of the field as quickly as I could, as the grass was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable between my toes.

Not soon enough, I was fighting my way upstream through the EZ Death line. I could see Cerberus, still chewing on the sole of one of the shoes as I passed him by. He barked at me, docile as a puppy, and then licked and ate what looked to be an entire shoelace.

I smiled, almost unwillingly. "I'll bring you some more shoes next time, buddy," I said, waving as I spotted a single wing, flapping half heartedly against the ground before in was pinned down by a massive paw.

I cringed. _Adorable._

* * *

It was only after leaving the ferry and making my way back into the lobby that I realized I'd forgotten to mention Charon's radio during my very heated conversation with Hades. The ferryman hadn't been very happy to carry me back over the Styx, since bringing someone out of the land of the dead was almost as untraditional and wrong as bringing a living person _into_ it. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't much of a choice; _he_ wasn't lord of the realm.

 _Don't Fear the Reaper_ was playing. Again. I realized with what was almost a level of relief that Nico would probably _not_ forget about the radio. Not that it was very important, but I was pretty sure that Charon would be more willing to let demigods (like Percy, Annabeth, and I, in the very near future) cross if he thought we'd keep our promises.

I couldn't wait to be done with the Underworld. _The day's coming soon,_ I told myself as I left the lobby and entered into the land of the living, where there was now daylight.

Not too soon, of course. After all, I had errands to run.

* * *

 _This was the easiest chapter ever to write. I finished it up in about a twelve hour period. Up until this chapter, I had basically been posting whenever I was one chapter ahead. Now I have a little more wiggle room, and I'm hoping I'll be able to set an upload schedule and stick to it a little._


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